Merlin's Heir in the Triwizard Tournament
by FireAngel312
Summary: Cyrano, Heir of Merlin, learns that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts and is soon to figure he has somehow ended up competing. He has a secret hidden from the world except from three individuals, but will it help in the tournament. AU of HP # 4, removal of a few characters and added ones as well. Sorry no Harry
1. Triwizard

Author's Note: This is an AU of Harry Potter with my own characters, so by right it should be an AU of Hogwarts. As most of the fun starts with Harry's fourth year with the Triwizard Tournament, that's where this story will start, lacking Harry though. My own character, Cyrano Odion, will take the place of Harry, where as some other characters will be replaced also and some will just be plane new. Some characters, such as, Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin, Voldemort, and a few others will not be replaced and will play the same roles. Though I don't know where this may lead, in sense of relationships, happenings of other characters and so on and so forth, I have planned a little bit differently for it. I did, as it is a different character, make a few details of past events different, things like the ending of the third year with the Dementors, but as they will probably only ever be mentioned briefly, it will not matter much.

Disclaimer: Though it's a pity, I own nothing of Harry Potter or Hogwarts.

"Bold move, Jonathan," Cyrano said examining the layout of the wizards chest board. Morgan was looking out the window as the countryside went by, her twin, Jonathan, was smirking at what he had just accomplished on the chess board. They were on the Hogwarts Express which had left King's Cross Station nearly three hours ago, on their way to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"You give up," the boy known as Jonathan asked.

"Not yet Blaxton," Cyrano mumbled still seeing if he could wriggle his way out of the move, he was finding it very difficult to see an opening.

"I'm hurt, you used my last name," Jonathan said with mocked hurt before laughing. Jonathan Blaxton was a young man, same age as Cyrano, which was fourteen. He had eyes of light green and hair of black, at that moment he was wearing his regular clothes, a t-shirt and jeans. Though he was in good health, he looked like he had been inside for months; making his complexion pale and he had grown quite thin despite how much he ate.

"Nathan," Morgan said using his shorter name, "when did dad say you'd look better again, because it's going to be real embarrassing walking in with you looking like that." Morgan had the same hair and eye color as her twin brother, but looked better in health.

"Hey, Morgan, lay off will you, it's only been four days since the full moon," Cyrano glared at the girl than turning to Jonathan who now actually had a hurt expression, asked, "you okay mate?"

"Yeah, only wished Lupin been there to help," Jonathan said weakly. During the events of last year Cyrano discovered that a murder had escaped to try and take his life, only to learn the same man, Sirius Black, had in fact escaped to get to the man who betrayed Cyrano's parents. During the year a clan of werewolves had been allowed entrance to the forbidden forest for the time being until the laws, focusing on werewolf rights, that they were overseeing were finished. Cyrano and his friends, in unexplainable events, had ended up in the forbidden forest to try and save Sirius. Well Cyrano was busy fending of Dementors, a werewolf, later identified not to be Lupin who had changed into a werewolf and ran off, tried to attack Cyrano. In a single moment Jonathan threw himself in front of the werewolf and had taken the bite that would have been Cyrano's. Except Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and the Blaxton family, Cyrano was the only other one who knew what Jonathan was. That would no doubt change this year as teachers would need to know why he disappeared three nights each month

Cyrano decided to let the poor boy have a break, he made the move and his king through down his sword. "Ok, I give up."

"At least I had you with me, I think if it hadn't-," Cyrano glared at the young Blaxton, besides Dumbledore, Jonathan, who had been there the night in their second year that Cyrano found out, was the only one who knew that particular secret, and he wasn't about to let it get out. Jonathan shut his mouth and then said, "Sorry." Cyrano glanced at Morgan, she had always been interested into the secret her brother knew, but Cyrano made sure she had stayed blind; she had a hard time keeping secrets. Cyrano looked at his reflection, his grey eyes meet the reflection of its own, he had let his black hair grow out some, near to his shoulders and he liked it at the length for some reason. He had two scars he had recived on the streets, one outlined his hair line on the right side, well the other lined the left side of the edge of his jaw. His right hand twitched, he looked down at the bandaged covered hand visualizing what lay beneath.

His hand wasn't actually injured; unless you count a scar that he received as a child from a wizard who tried to kill him. It was shaped like an eye and that is why he kept it wrapped up, didn't know if Voldemort was using it to watch him. He could have only imagined what it was like when it had been like when it had been carved there. Cyrano closed his hand into a fist, but stared off into space.

"HEY," Cyrano jumped with fright, Morgan had been trying to get his attention.

"Well, than pay attention next time. We were just discussing what is taking place at school," Morgan said," we just wanted to know what you thought." Cyrano smirked; they had been trying for months to get out of the twins parents what was going to be happening at Hogwarts once it slipped out over the dinner table. Unfortunately, Miles Blaxton had a clever mind and knew when they were going to surprise him with the question.

"Well, whatever it is, it hasn't happened for over a century, or that's what I heard your dad say," Cyrano said. Their chat lasted for another hour, sometime after that they started on another subject and were interrupted a few times by friends. At some point they knew they weren't far and finished changing into school uniforms just as the puled up to Hogsmeade Station. Harry grabbed his trunk and then his Barn owl, Archimedes

They stepped out on a platform just as a huge lumbering form came up," Hey there, Cyrano, how was yer summe'."

"Hey, Hagrid," Cyrano said giving the giant man a smile. It was Dumbledore who had found him on the streets, but Hagrid was the one who had escorted him to the Blaxton's when he first learned what he was, a wizard. For that Hagrid would always be a close friend, "Yeah, it was great can't what to see what Hogwarts has in store for us this year." Hagrid waved as they walked to the carriages. The climbed into the nearest carriage and it automatically took off. Jonathan, being the brain of the group, pulled out a book and started reading. Morgan took to looking herself over in a hand held mirror. Cyrano just glanced around waiting for the ride to stop.

Their carriage was pulled past stone, winged gargoyle hogs, they guarded Hogwarts's gates. It took another few minutes to reach the giant oak doors. They hurried into the castle leaving their stuff to be taken care of. When they entered they let the warmth of the castle wash over them, they moved into the Great Hall. They took their places at the Gryffindor table, although Cyrano always wondered how he even got sorted considering the lineage he had begun far before this school was even thought of.

They waited as the first years sailed across the lake, at least it wasn't rainy like it had been the night the came to the castle. When they did arrive, they lined up in front of the staff table waiting for the moment they all were hoping for, but dreading. Professor McGonagall placed a well-aged worn hat on a stool and everyone waited. Then the song burst into song, it told of the four houses coming together and which house stood for what. Then it shut itself up and waited for the first head. When all the first years were sorted Headmaster Dumbledore stood up to make his before feast statement.

"I have only two words for you," the old man's voice bounced around the room, "Tuck in." The tables filled with food and everyone automatically started grabbing anything in reach. Small conversations were taking place, but Cyrano didn't join in until a curly haired girl named Rose came towards them in a hurry.

"Cy….Cy," she was using his short name, when she was right next to him she turned to a boy sitting next to him and snapped, "budge up, Magnus."

"What's up Rose looks like you've seen a ghost," smirking as the Gryffindor house ghost, nearly Headless Nick, was only a couple seats down. Rose was doing her best to recompose herself.

"Ha, ha, but no, I just figured out there's no Quidditch this year," she finally spit out. Cyrano was shocked. He was one of the Beaters for Gryffindor's house team, Rose herself was the Seeker.

"What," Cyrano exclaimed; he was going to be pissed if there wasn't, that's what made it easier to get through classes.

"Yeah, I heard Flitwick talking to Professor Vector, he said since what is going to take place at Hogwarts, they decided just to not hold matches this year," Rose said, her cheeks taking on the same color as her name.

"That reminds me," Jonathan said, "do you know what's happening here?" Rose shook her head as Dumbledore stood up, everything vanished from the tables.

"So now that we are all fed and watered," Dumbledore said looking around the Hall, "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include: Screaming Yo-yos, fanged Frisbees, and Ever Banishing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of the Headmaster's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," he heard several people yell speak out like he had. Dumbledore continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy – but I am sure you will enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"At that moment the doors of the Great Hall banged open as someone entered. Cyrano didn't see the new arrival, but he instantly felt like he was being watched. The sound of wood clomping across the Great Hall reached his ears as he watched a very scarred man walk up to the staff table. Cyrano could see that he had been through many battles, the scares gave that away easy enough, he thought the man was even missing a chunk of his nose.

When he reached Dumbledore Cyrano was surprise when the battle torn man gave him a gruff hug, he looked to paranoid to give even himself a hug. Dumbledore turned his attention back to the students, "Ah, yes, everyone, I'd like to introduce a friend of mine, Alastor Moody, who will be taking place as professor for the Defense against the Dark Arts Class. Now where was I, ah, yes, we are having the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my greatest pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." Cyrano heard Jonathan gasp, so he figured it was something important, that, or very dangerous.

Dumbledore then went on to explain what the Triwizard Tournament was and why it hadn't been reestablished until recently. He told the students that the two heads of the other schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, would be arriving in October with selected students who would be able to enter the tournament. He also warned them that he would be using an age line around the impartial judge so no one under the age of 17 could enter. Cyrano was glad; he had had enough adventures in the last three years than he ever wanted. However, some students didn't take kindly to this news.

Dumbledore finally sent them off to bed, voices flooded the room. Cyrano could her that quite a few were taking about ways to getting into the tournament.

"So, Cy what do you think," Morgan asked.

"About what," Cyrano asked, already knowing the answer.

"The tournament, are you going to try and enter," Cyrano snorted, he knew Morgan wasn't serious about entering herself, but she wanted to see his reaction.

"If I ever wanted to do something that stupid, I think I'd rather go find Aragog," the twins laughed well Cyrano gave his knowing smirk.

"Well, I suppose it's just nice fantasizing over it," Jonathan said as they made their way up the marble steps.

"That it is Nathan, that it is," Cyrano said. Soon they found themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room and soon their dormitories. Cyrano quickly got ready for bed and tried to get some sleep. His mind had other ideas though, for the hundredth time that day he was pondering over the dream he had had over the summer. He was finding that everyday something new seemed to pop out at him. He tried not to show it a lot, a trick he gained from living on the streets for four years, but he was worried about the dream. The night he had had the dream, he had automatically sent word to Sirius, he remembered because Sirius had sent back an answer with worries to why the letter he had sent was covered I blood. Cyrano lied, saying he had cut it on something well trying to write the letter, but what really was going on was his scar had been heavily bleeding. It scarred Cyrano when it happened, but he shrugged it off. Sleep finally caught up with Cyrano and sooner or later, everything fell into darkness.

Light hit his face waking him from a dreamless sleep that he had been quite enjoying. Throwing of his blankets, Cyrano started getting dressed. As usual he was the first one up, another habit he had picked up off the streets. Grabbing the things he needed he rushed down to the Great Hall to get his class schedule.

"Mr. Odion, here is your schedule, I believe you requested switching from Divination to Ancient Runes is that correct," Professor McGonagall asked.

"Yes, Professor, despite the most interesting things I've learned in there," Cyrano started sarcastically, "I find Ancient Runes would be a bit more productive." Cyrano could have sworn the corners of McGonagall's mouth started pointing upwards, but mastered herself before she let it slip.

"Very well, here is your schedule," she tapped the piece of parchment she held and his classes automatically rolled down in fine hand writing.

"Thanks Professor," Cyrano said taking the schedule and looking it over as he went to find a place to sit. A half hour passed before Jonathan joined him at the Gryffindor table.

"So, do all the teachers know," Cyrano leaned over and asked his best friend, who was looking a little less under the weather as the day before.

"Yeah, man, Potion's going to be horrible," Jonathan said looking at the breakfast selections.

"Don't worry Nathan, I'll make sure he directs all his unwanted attention on me," Cyrano said, "besides Snape can't do anything, if he lets it slip he'll lose his job, or get probation if he doesn't get sacked." Morgan joined them at that exact moment.

"What do you guys have fourth hour," Morgan asked getting breakfast.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Cyrano answered, he wasn't sure Jonathan could talk without throwing up first, "Moody looked….interesting, if I could place a word for him."

"I got an up close look at him," Morgan shuddered, "he looks like he went through several heavy duty cutting spells. Wouldn't want to imagine what's got him fighting to the point of death."

"By the way," Cyrano brought his voice down lower and glanced around to see if anyone was watching, "I'm going to see Ignatius tonight."

"What, are you crazy, first day back and you want to be caught on the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the night," Morgan whispered back looking worried.

"Look I want to talk to him, I don't get to see him unless I'm here and the poor fellows stuck there," Cyrano said thinking of how he'd get up there without being followed.

"Oh, my god, I don't know why I even bother to argue with you," Morgan said finally giving up hope.

The conversation carried on until the bell rang. They gathered there things and went to their first class, which was Charms, thankfully for Jonathan, who looked possibly too weak to cast much more than a weak tickle charm. After that they went down to Herbology, which did nothing for Jonathan's stomach as they had to squeeze bubotubers for their thick, smelling horrible looking….. Well let's just call it puss. Cyrano had to admit it was quite fun popping the plants, though the smell reeked and after seeing what it did to uncovered flesh made him wish they never had to go through that again.

Third hour had to deal with Care of magical Creatures and although he loved his large friend he had a bad feeling. Cyrano had no problem with large creatures, after he had to go around a giant three headed dog, fight a sixty foot long Basilisk, and then deal with Hagrid's pet tarantula family, he felt pretty good. The only problem was that Hagrid couldn't figure out how to organize a class and that's where it usually ended up with him being in a lot of trouble.

During this class period Cyrano could see quite a few crates filled with who knows what and he had a feeling was a day that he would regret.

"Ove' here, gathe' round, want to show all yeh something. Acquired this recently there called Blast Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said as the class formed a tight circle to see inside one of the crates that was open. Blast Ended Skrewts were one of the weirdest creatures Cyrano had seen. They looked somewhat like grey lobsters without shells. Cyrano quietly asked Hagrid where got them, but was left without an answer, which made him think he didn't want one, "Today all I wan' yeh ter do is see what the like ter eat, I wasn't really sure what they'd take so I brough' all I could."

Cyrano again had the feeling he didn't want to know where Hagrid got them, especially if he didn't know what they eat. However, his soft spot for Hagrid outweighed his disgust, so instead of complaining he grabbed some frog livers and put his hand in to a crate. He soon learned, with the rest of the class, that the males had stingers, where the females had suckers, "….I think they might be ter suck blood." Hagrid answered one of the students after they asked what the suckers where for. Then again they surprised the class as the started to shoot of little sparks, causing one to fly forwards a couple centimeters.

When the class could endure it no matter the bell rang giving them all a reason to bolt up to the castle. After washing frog liver grim off their hands, the three friends found their way to the class room of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The room looked bare, apparently the new Defense teacher didn't care much for looks, Cyrano liked him already. They took their seats as close to the front as they could get, which was right in the front as it was.

Once the bell rang it took a minute or two for the new teacher to make an appearance. As soon as he walked into the room, without looking at the students, he growled, "You can put those away, you won't need them." No knew what he meant so no one moved. He turned around.

"The books, you won't need them." Everyone stored there books back into their bags. As they did so he wrote his full name on the board, he turned around once more, "I've been informed you covered Dark creatures from Professor Lupin. Now—"

"Sir if I could please interrupt, but who are you," Morgan asked with her hand in the air. Moody looked at her for a minute with a false electric-blue eye stuck in a socket strapped to his head.

"I suppose you have a right to know, but with as many people grumbling about it I'm surprised you don't already know," the deformed man said before he continued, "My name his Alastor Moody I was once an Auror, but as you can see it's left me pretty bare, I retired. However, Dumbledore called on me to do a favor for the year, so there's the story, may I continue what I was saying." His false eye seemed to penetrate everyone before he started once more with what he was saying after their continued silence.

"Now, as I was saying I want to start out this year with curses, I have been given orders by the Ministry y to teach you counter curses and leave you at that. But Dumbledore and I have agreed that you need to learn the darker side of magic. Does it look like I've been hit with a spell that caused me to have pink eyebrows, no, how do you know how to defend yourself against something if you've never seen the likes of it before? I want to get straight down to it; can anyone tell me the spells that will earn you a life sentence in Azkaban?" Moody's eyes roamed the class room, it seemed that if anyone knew they didn't want to be the ones called on, no on raised their hands, "If one of you don't answer me, I tell about the time, in great detail, how my EYE WAS RIPT RIGHT FROM ITS SOCKET." Several hands rose at once, including Jonathan's.

"Thank you," Moody said, "you, Blaxton, what are the three curses."

"There called the Unforgivable Curses," Jonathan said doing his best not to sound frightened.

"That's right, the three curses that are unforgivable. Many had there uses back in the day, especially in the last war against the Dark Lord," Moody said, looking at them as though one wanted to disprove him, " Can someone name them for us?" Several hands raised tentatively in the air.

"You there in the back, what's your name," Moody called out looking above Cyrano's head.

"It's Irwin Mudge, sir," Cyrano knew the boy quite well, in fact they shared dormitories.

"What are the three curses, Mr. Mudge," Moody asked turning back to the board taking up chalk as the boy listed them off.

"There's the Imperius Curse, which allows you to control somebody, then the Cruciatus Curse, which is a torture spell, and then Avada Kedavra…..the killing curse, instantly killed, no way to block it."

"Yes your right Mr. Mudge no way to avoid the killing curse," Cyrano had a strange feeling that he was being watched again, "but one has survived, and quite unexplainable to why." Cyrano watched as Moody twisted his body around finding that his magical blue eye on him. He knew eyes were on him, but he was doing his best to ignore the whole class. Then quite unexpected;

"CONSTANT VILIGANCE," Moody boomed, making everyone jump, "now, right these notes down." He started writing on the chalk board. The rest of the time was taken up with taking notes, no one dared to talk or look around after Moody showed he could see out the back of his head. The bell rang and, it seemed, that a lot of people were glad to leave."

"Well, at least he didn't show use the curses," Morgan said as she rummaged through her book bag to find a hand sized mirror.

"I have a feeling," Cyrano started grimly, "that we have yet to see that session of class." The rest of the day went fruitfully well; it was good they didn't have Potion tell the next day. After classes, the trio went up to the common room and started on school work.

Sometime after eight Cyrano slipped out of the portrait hole and made his way to the Astronomy Tower, Cyrano had a friend up there that most certainly never got visitors during the summer. It was dangerous to walk around the school at night with teachers wondering about, but Cyrano was trained in the Confundes charms. If he ran into Mr. Filch he'd be fine, but a teacher was a different matter. Thankfully he made it up to the Astronomy Tower without incident.

"Well, it's about time," Cyrano smiled, a smile he usually reserved for his stony friend. See. Ignatius was a stone Gargoyle, though a stone dragon to be more accurate. He had a marker spell to keep him in place. The difference between a marker spell and a permanent sticking charm was, a marker spell keeps you in one spot, but you may, or in Ignatius's case pick up a talon. Permanent sticking charms cause you to be attached forever to that spot, unable to move a limb. Another thing about Ignatius is only Cyrano could converse with him. The stone dragon in question was a foot tall and white marble, "thought you'd forget me up here, oh, so great Heir of Merlin."

"Listen, brick-face, I only just arrived here yesterday and you know you don't wake up until after sunset," Cyrano said chuckling, "and don't call me that, it may be the truth, but I don't like it when you do it."

"So how was your summer with the wolf-boy," Ignatius asked, ignoring him.

"Jonathan, well, it was better than I expected, but I wish there was some way to take the bite back," Cyrano rubbed the back of his neck; well he sat on the railing of the balcony.

"No you don't, you know as well as I what would have happened if you had gotten bite. The two sides to—"

"Shhhh,"Cyrano managed, looking around hoping no one was around.

"Oh come on, no one's around, who's going to hear," Ignatius insisted turning around on the spot he was marked to.

"I can't trust anything to get out," Cyrano said still looking around for any sign of somebody.

"You remind me of some kid who used to attend here, he spent a lot of time checking his back," Ignatius said, "what was his name, Alan, Atlas—"

"Alastor Moody, perhaps," Cyrano insisted, finding the conversation going in a good direction, away from him.

"YES, that's him, even before he became an Auror always making sure no one was sticking a wand in his back," Ignatius said, looking just a bit confused, "Hey, how did you know his name?"

"Really, you live on the castle, Ignatius, and you hear nothing," Cyrano grinned, Ignatius did not look amused.

"Just tell me."

"He took on the Defense Against the Dark Arts class as professor, so far he's been interesting," Cyrano's expression turned grim as he thought about that day's session.

"Well, I can't tell you much more about the man, after all I only knew him when he went to school. Even then I can't tell you anymore, no one talks to a dragon statue that they can't speak to in the middle of the night," Ignatius rambled. Cyrano grinned as he listened to his stone friend ramble on about what portrait said what and which portrait denied what. It was finally reached the point where Cyrano had to leave, promising the stoned serpent he'll visit again when he could find the time.

As he snuck through the corridors Cyrano let his mind wander back to the previse day's events, back to the Triwizard tournament. Hearing of the tournament, Cyrano had the decency to look up its history. What he found out, well just sufficed to say, he had sympathy for the people who got chosen for it.

Author's Note: Okay first chapters done. I look back and realize how many people make a fanfic about the Triwizard Tournament, but hey it was probably the most exciting thing in the fourth book of HP. For those who read this far and haven't minded I removed some people and replaced them, well thanks for at least that. As for those who realized I did not add anything to replace Harry's invisibility cloak like I did with harry, but I made that up by giving him a secret that you won't learn until later into the story. Also, yes, when Ignatius called Cyrano Heir of Merlin I really meant it, it works into the story later and decided some famous wizard's decedent should be added in. I also like how I mad his scar an eye as it fit's for watching in on him. There are so many things to explain, but I feel like I should explain them when they become more important. And yes for people who wanted to know some characters remained because I was just too lazy to make up new ones. If you were also wondering, yes, Cyrano was homeless for the better part of four years before going to Hogwarts. (Only my second fanfic, and still writing the other, had to get this one started and of my chest) Please rate and comment.


	2. The Arrival

Author's Note: Second chapter good to go, again some characters are removed, for example, Harry, Hermione, and all of Weasley family, other characters were left due to laziness, and then there are some possible new ones, Ignatius for sure already. So as I right I write this author's note before actual writing the chapter I have no idea where this will carry me or if it will go anywhere at all. However, even if it doesn't, I find that writing a story is like reading one, not knowing where the adventure will end. I might possibly have this chapter end with the other schools arriving, but it will not contain the goblet spitting out names, as I want you to learn a little more about Cyrano if possible. And yes a few things are going to be the same, obviously Sirius and the false Moody, but that doesn't mean it can't change in the end. If I get to it in this chapter, it will be changing points of views between the three champions, Cyrano, and Dumbledore, that way we get some feedback from all around, but that's only if I get to it this chapter. Well, here we go.

The next few weeks passed and soon it was October and thing becamerather interesting for Cyrano. Cyrano got a letter back from Sirius saying that he would be back in the country in no time. Well, as much as Cyrano wanted to say that the dream he had wasn't important just to keep his godfather out of the country, he knew Sirius wouldn't fall for the trick. So he decided instead of worrying about it, he had better things to worry. Like the fact Moody was starting to use the Imperius Curse on the students.

"CONSTANT VILIGANCE! You've got to learn how to throw it off; the Imperius Curse is probably the only one of the three that you want to be cast on you. Why? Because if you've got the right mind it's the only one you can prevent. Now who wants to go first," The students were, apparently, not that willingly to give up their mind. Moody obviously saw this because, with a wave of his wand, caused the tables and benches they were sitting on to fly to the side of the room. Everyone was rubbing their sore rumps as they got up; they had not been pulled with their seats.

"You," Moody pointed at a nervous Elizabeth Dawn, she jumped, "we'll start with you."

The poor girl stepped forward looking like she wished Moody had started with someone else. She stood right in front of Moody waiting for him to get it over with. Moody pointed his wand at her.

"_Impeiro_" Her face got a dazed look and then she started to do gymnastics. For the next twenty minutes the whole class to their amusements and embarrassments got to watch their classmates fall under the Imperius Curse. Some acted like barn animals, well some others, to one embarrassing example, serenading other classmates. It was all good fun until Moody reached Cyrano, he had a distinct feeling moody had been waiting to long for this.

"Right, Mr. Odion, let's see what _you_ can do," Cyrano didn't like the way he emphasized 'you', but had no choose in it, "_Imperio._"

A feeling of calmness washed over him, but it was only mere seconds before it was gone. He saw astonishment etched in Moody's heavily carved up face.

"How did you do that," Moody asked, his magical eye seemed to be trying to drill into his soul.

"Do what, Professor," Cyrano asked honestly.

"Never, in all my years as an Auror, have I seen someone just shrug off an Imperius Curse in such a short time," Moody growled, although obviously, still surprised.

"I don't know how I did it, sir. It was there only a few seconds and then it was gone, before I could even think about throwing it off," Cyrano said with a frown, as he looked at it, it was sort of strange, but then again he had some strange aspects about himself.

Moody insisted on doing it on Cyrano six more times to see what happened. One after the other the same thing happened, by the last try he didn't even know the Imperius Curse had been cast on him before it was gone again. The bell rang and they left Moody muttering about it.

"Kind of creepy isn't he," Jonathan asked, he had been made to act like a wolf, which had been funny to watch, but decided it had been a bit cruel.

"Yeah, but I'm not too worried now that I could be put under an Imperius Curse now," Cyrano said trying to lighten the mood. They entered the Great Hall for lunch, they weren't halfway across when a familiar, but unpleasant voice call out to him.

"Hey, Odion, what did Moody have you do, imitate a Blast-Ended Skrewt," laughter came from the Slytherin table. Cyrano turned to find Nicodemus Sandon, a very scrawny brown haired boy, smirking at him.

"Whatever, Sandon, but everyone here can see you're the one most related to them," Cyrano said with his on smirk and turned to walk away. Sandon retaliated with another comment, but Cyrano didn't turn back to respond to it. That had obviously made Sandon mad, because he pulled out his wand and aimed it at Cyrano.

He didn't need to turn around to see it coming; one he saw horrified faces starring at something behind him and two because he could sense the movement. He stepped aside when the spell flew by; he turned back around, but did not draw his own wand. It would draw to much attention and Cyrano didn't want to have to deal with teachers, especially if Snape was the one to spot the event.

"What's the matter, Sandon? Can't properly aim well you try to hit a man with his back turned," Cyrano jested. He knew he wasn't making the situation any better, but it was fun to see Sandon get mad at the comment. He aimed to fire another spell before his wand went flying from his hand; he turned to see who had disarmed him.

Professor McGonagall was striding towards him, her eyes and thin mouth betrayed her anger.

"Mr. Sandon, you know the rules against using magic against a fellow student, thirty points from Slytherin and another ten for a second attempt. You will also serve detention with me," she spoke coldly to him and then she turned to Cyrano, "thank you, Mr. Odion, for not retaliating. Ten points for Gryffindor for showing some ethics."

Cyrano finished his journey to the Gryffindor table, grinning at his two friends.

"You know it amazes me how you never attack Sandon every time he tries a spell on you," Jonathan was grinning aw well, "ah, well, at least he's got detention. You should have seen Snape's face when he realized you weren't going to pull out your wand, it was hysterical. I swore for a second though that he was going to get up and try and get you on something, but then McGonagall came in and he just turned back to his lunch."

"I've learned from the past few years," Cyrano said well getting some lunch, "that sometimes doing nothing has its own rewards."

After lunch, Cyrano and Jonathan departed from Morgan, who had Divination and actually thought it was something worth learning, well they made their way to Ancient Runes. It was actually quite interesting, they had started with studying different runes of ancient civilizations. Cyrano was one year behind because of having not taken the class the year before, but that only came up with some extra work.

When they left that class to go to Potions, Jonathan started looking nervous. Snape had been make things difficult for him, but Cyrano kept assuring him that he wouldn't dare let out his secret because it would mean trouble for him. The made it to the doors outside the dungeon where the Potions class took place. They were there only a couple of minutes before Snape appeared and lead the class in. Jonathan and Cyrano took their seats at the back as usual; Morgan came in a few seconds later, but in time for the bell.

"Settle down," Snape said, but the room was quiet so it wasn't needed. He scanned the room and his eyes fell on the table their group was sitting at. He pulled his eyes away and continued to talk.

"Today we will start this class with a potion that prevents sleep. It is one of the easier potions to start with this year, but you will find it is still rather difficult. The directions and ingredients needed are up on the board. Now get to work." Snape turned away and returned to his desk looking at some papers as the class go to work.

Cyrano always hated the fact that the hour seemed to take forever, but he couldn't help it, so continued on crushing beetles. The class began alright, but it wasn't long before Snape got out of his desk and started circling the room checking people's cauldrons. Cyrano began to get worried.

He wasn't worried about himself; in fact he took pride at how well he did in this class. He didn't do as well as some other students, like the Slytherins, but that was because Snape favored them. No, he was worried about Jonathan; he could get real nervous under pressure and was likely to make a mistake. Under his current circumstance, Jonathan as getting really nervous and was making quite a few mistakes.

When Snape reached their table, he leaned over Cyrano's cauldron, sniffing it. Apparently there was very little wrong because he sneered and moved on without making a comment. He moved over to Jonathan's and his face formed an evil complexion

"It seems, Mr. Blaxton, that you have neglected to correctly crush the wolfsbane into powder, is there any reason you forgot too. I'm sure with you _intellect_ you could figure out this simple procedure," Snape sneered, the Slytherins were in uncontrollable giggles. They hadn't caught the second meaning in the question, but the three that sat before him caught it quite well.

Wolfsbane usually reacted when it made contact with the skin of a werewolf, the blue flower petals would turn white. As they couldn't let that happen, Morgan had crushed the wolfsbane for Jonathan, though she had still found it quite irritating that she had to do things like this for him. She hadn't done it to satisfactory, which had caused the potion to become just a bit thicker than it should have been.

"No, sir," was all Jonathan answered with, he was turning very pale.

"No, sir, it's not a simple procedure or no, sir, you don't have any _reason_ to why you may have not been able to crush the flower correctly," Snape said, his face took on an evil smile. Cyrano finally decided it was going too far.

"I believe you have talked to Dumbledore, so _professor_ I believe you already know the answer to this question, if your mind was able to grasp what he told you," Cyrano said his anger escaped him. Several students gasped and the Slytherins were getting big grins. Cyrano had steeped over the line and he knew it, but he couldn't allow this to happen to his best friend.

"Detention Odion and 25 points from Gryffindor for the cheek," Snape snapped, "I will tell you what you will do for detention after class." Snape continued walking around the room.

"Thanks Cy, you wouldn't have had to do that if I had been smart enough to bring gloves along," Jonathan said, guilt in his voice.

"I'm sorry too," piped in Morgan, "if I had taken the time to crush the flower properly…"

"Doesn't matter you two, he has had it coming from me for a while, so it was something that was a long time coming," Cyrano told both of them as he turned back to his potion, which was looking to be lighter blue then the book said it should be.

When class ended Snape told them that they would start with poisons the next class period, everyone became nervous, even the Slytherin, when Cyrano figured out what he would be doing he groaned inwardly, not wanting to show weakness to the slimy git. He would be sorting through some new ingredients Snape had received and from the sound of it; some of them would be nasty to hold.

"Well, that will be fun," he said with sarcasm as the trio made their way down to the great Hall for dinner.

"When is it," Morgan asked casually.

"On Saturday, the 31st," Cyrano answered grumpily.

They found an announcement on the bulletin board right outside the Great Hall. It was explaining the coming of the other two schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

**Triwizard Tournament**

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30th of October – lessons will end half an hour early. students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the welcoming feast._

"Well that's something good, it will at least keep my mind off of detention until the next day," Cyrano said. When they entered the hall, people could be heard chatting about the other schools and more importantly the tournament. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, it wasn't long before to buoys joined them.

They were the same size, but one had dirty blond hair and the other just as black as Jonathan's or Morgan's hair was. They both had brown eyes however, which held the same mischievous glint in them. The one with blond hair was Jack Fieldings and the other was Blake Harrison, they would have claimed to be brothers if it hadn't been their physical differences.

"Hey you two, not trying anything stupid to get in the tournament are you," Morgan asked them.

"Well, if it isn't the lovely Morgan, why do you ask such a question, are you concerned for us?"

"In your dreams Blake," Morgan scoffed.

"Every night."

"Shut up Jack," Morgan retorted. The two friends sniggered.

"Well, we thought about using an Aging potion, thinking it was simple, that maybe it would be over looked," Blake explained, "however, my colleague here said because of its simplicity, our dear headmaster would probably think of it, make sure anything as simple as that would be unable to get past whatever will be judging the champions."

"Yeah, so instead we started a bet pool on who'll most likely be the Hogwarts Champion," Jack said, he held up a box, "Anyone care to bet? All you have to do is write whoever you think will be picked, your name so we know who betted, and the amount you bet."

Cyrano smirked, actually thinking about entering some money, "Who's popular so far?"

"Well, so far, we've had five bets for Angel Cray in Ravenclaw, but I think, despite his house, he's a blithering idiot. Then 7 bets for Cedric Diggory in Hufflepuff," Blake rambled off. Cyrano remembered Cedric; he was the Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Hufflepuff had won a game against them last year, Cedric caught the snitch. He wouldn't have if Cyrano had been around to send a Bludger in his direction, but he was being bombarded by Dementors at the time. Blake continued with names for another thirty seconds or so, adding in some comments here and there before he ended with, "and 3 votes for Greg Malory of Ravenclaw." Cyrano thought it over, thank god there was no Slytherins, either they didn't like the bet because it was started by Gryffindors or no one believed one would be chosen.

"I'll go with Cedric with ten galleons," Cyrano said taking a piece of paper that was offered, it took only a few seconds to fill in the required information. When he was done, he dropped the paper into the box.

"Good, choice. Thought you'd go for someone else seeing as he caught the snitch last year," Jack said looking at the list.

"Fortunately, I don't hold grudges," Cyrano said, "besides some of them I'd be embarrassed to have as a representative for Hogwarts. I like Cedric because he would be the best for the job."

"No dear friend," Blake said with a mocking airy voice, "you would be. Cyrano Odion, Champion of Hogwarts and Heir of Merlin."

"Shut up," Cyrano frowned, a bit irritated, "I've told you to leave off that title. Besides I'm too young to enter and even if I was old enough, I wouldn't want to I've seen to many things to last me a life time and I have a feeling I'll see more."

"Very well," Jack said with mocked sadness, "but will we certainly wish you were picked." They two friends gathered their things and left with grins

"Blithering idiots," Cyrano mumbled.

"Yeah, well you have to admit it would kind of be cool to see that written in the Prophet," Morgan said reading a copy of the paper she had just mentioned.

"Yeah, it would," Cyrano admitted, if things had played out differently in his life he would probably like to be champion, "but thank god it won't."

"Ah, Cyrano," Jonathan said, getting his friends attention, "remember what the night after tomorrow is?"

Cyrano didn't know what he was talking about until he realized the state his friend was in. Jonathan had taken on his pale complexion again and looked thin again. With all that was happening Cyrano had forgotten about the full moon.

"Don't worry, I'll be there," Cyrano said reassuring his friend, "you won't have to spend it alone. If Lupin here you wouldn't have to spend it with me, but with another werewolf. However, I don't see that as likely. Just remember you don't have classes tomorrow or the two days after that."

"Yeah, don't remind me how hard it is to get caught up with schoolwork," Jonathan said, looking at his food as though it was the cause for everything.

The next day and a half went quicker than normal, maybe it was because Cyrano's mind was always thinking about the full moon or maybe because his friend had gone quiet. Before he knew it he was in the headmaster's office with Jonathan at around 5:30, waiting for Dumbledore to explain how this and the next full moons would go.

When the headmaster arrived, he sat down behind his desk and fixed his x-ray eyes on Jonathan from under his half-moon spectacles.

"So, Mr. Blaxton, I explained briefly what we'd do in a letter I sent to your family," He said without blinking, "I will re-explain if it won't do much trouble." He waited for Jonathan's answer, which he gave with a nod.

"Very well, at this time every day of the full moon, you will go to the hospital wing and be giving the wolfsbane potion. Then you will be escorted down to the Whomping Willow were, as you know, there is a secret passage to the Shrieking Shack, "Dumbledore explained, " you will wait out the night there after you transform."

"Yes, sir," Jonathan said weakly.

"I believe," the headmaster's eyes turned to Cyrano, "that you have accompanied Mr. Blaxton for the last few months when he has transformed."

Yes, sir," Cyrano nodded. Dumbledore starred at him a few more seconds and then, again, fixed his gaze on Jonathan, this time with a smile.

"I think we can still allow that," Dumbledore said, "as I know that he can handle it if you still fall into madness. I know how difficult it can be to be like this alone; after all, I had many complaints from Lupin's best friends until I allowed them to accompany him." Cyrano smiled at the reference of his father and Sirius.

Even after taking the Wolfsbane potion, a werewolf still has the chance to become savage. That's why Cyrano went with Jonathan; he was the only one who could stand up against him if he did, only because of Cyrano's own circumstance. Also because Jonathan didn't want to be alone for it, Cyrano didn't mind, he wouldn't want to be alone either.

Shortly after the discussion, Madam Pompfrey arrived with a steaming, green-sickly looking potion. Jonathan downed it as fast as possible, but apparently still wasn't the best thing in the world because it took several minutes. Then Madam Pompfrey escorted the two down to the living tree. Cyrano was the one who paralyzed the tree by sending a stick into a knot at the edge of the roots.

The nurse left them to walk through the long passage, neither of them saying a word. They didn't know what to talk about and were afraid that it would end up about what was just about to transpire. Cyrano really wished that he had taken the bite instead of Jonathan; it would have made things a little less tense.

When they made it to the Shrieking Shack, Jonathan explored until he found a room that he thought would work nicely. He shut the door, he didn't like to transform in front of people, whether he had a choice or not. Cyrano sat with his back against the door; it was some time before he heard the painful grunts that signified Jonathan's transformation.

It was hard to listen to, Cyrano wanted to close his ears, but refrained from doing so. He could hear Jonathan squirming around on the ground, the ripping of clothes was evident. Minutes passed well the sounds continued and then a howl escaped from the room.

Cyrano was sitting in the library doing an assignment for History of Magic, which, for once, he was fining interesting. He had been in potions a little bit ago, but having finished early with work, Snape had kicked him out. He didn't often finish early in potions as it was rather a difficult class for him, but when he got the chance he aimed for it. His assignment for History of magic was about the disappearance of draconians, which happened during the reign of the Roman Empire. At that moment he was reading some unique abilities of a draconian.

_…. beliefs of being connected to dragons, it is believed that draconians had a unique ability to sense dragons from a long distance._

He was deep into reading that he didn't realize the time, until Madam Pince gave a great 'humph' to get his attention. When he saw it was nearly 5 o'clock he grabbed his things quickly, returned his book in the right section and left to put his things in the dormitory.

He got there just as McGonagall's voice rang out through the castle notifying the time. Cyrano waited for the twins, who rushed up to their dormitories quickly. In that time Cyrano notice, in a mirror, that his eyes were clear. They often looked like they were clouded with mist, but after transforming they would clear up for a day or so, then the white sheen would come back. It never completely fogged his eyes, but people who never got to look into his eyes up close always starred after seeing them.

When the two came back, they slowly made their way down to the Great Hall. It was difficult with the swarm of students pushing their way to the same destination. When they finally arrived, the teachers made them line up according to year and marched them out to the front of the castle.

The air was a bit nippy, but it wasn't anything to worry about, especially Cyrano who was used to the cold. It was silent; nothing could be heard except for the breeze and the sound of the Black Lake's water lapping the shore. Chatter slowly crept into the air, it was becoming darker out and the students were becoming restless.

"Wonder how their getting here," Jonathan said. Cyrano just shook his head before he said anything.

"No idea," Cyrano mumbled, "but it's going to be something big if their coming with quite a few students."

"I think I heard a professor say something about a dozen each or something," Morgan said searching for anything that might indicate something approaching. Harry took this time to look at Jonathan. He looked like he had gone through months of starvation and lived in a cave for the same amount of time. The transformation had gone well and once Cyrano had joined him he seemed to have calmed. Despite that, he had had made himself presentable. His hair was combed and washed; he had chosen a washed uniform to wear and stood as tall as possible.

Cyrano knew he should have combed his hair as well, but it hadn't occurred to him. He had been maintaining it to shoulder length hair and he refused, after the many remarks by McGonagall, to tie it up in a band. He had worn the robes he had had on all day. Cyrano shrugged, it wouldn't matter much, the foreigners would keep their distance from them and they would keep their distance from the foreigners.

Cyrano, with his amazing senses, sensed something approaching before it came into view. It was a few seconds before someone said something.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches," Dumbledore called out somewhere from near the entrance, where he would greet the visiting school's Head.

"Where," several students asked, looking around searching for something that indicated their arrival. Cyrano spotted them just as someone shouted, "There!" Pointing to the sky, an object could be seen coming steadily closer.

It was hard to tell from a distance from what the object was, so classmates spouted out stupid answers

"A dragon," it had been one of the stupidest suggestions called out. Someone apparently thought so as well because a yell came out.

"Don't be stupid…..it's a flying house," which ended up being the closes guess. As the object came down, skimming over the Forbidden Forest, the lights from several windows of the castle finally gave away what the object was. It was a large powder blue carriage pulled by a dozen, elephant sized flying horses.

A few students took a couple steps back as the carriage hurtled close by. When it touched down it emitted a echoing bang, coming to a halt in front of the castle. The horses fidgeted just a bit, but settled down quickly.

Cyrano saw the schools emblem for just a second before it disappeared. It was to golden wands crossed with three stars shooting from them. A boy, probably two years older than Cyrano, climbed out holding the door open for the next person. They were surprised to see a glossy black high-heel that would have been big enough for a baby carriage. The rest of the person attached to that shoe came out next.

The woman rivaled Hagrid's hugeness; though she wasn't as wide. She was handsome, with an olived skin face; black liquid eyes and a beaky nose. Her hair was in a bun at the base of her neck. She wore black from head to foot in satin and wore many opals at her throat and around her fingers. She had a calm expression with a straight face, not showing her emotion. When Dumbledore started to clap, the rest of the castle joining in a few seconds later, her expression changed to gratefulness.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said, he leaned forward to kiss her hand, "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice, "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime gestured to the rest of the people who had followed her out of the carriage.

Cyrano looked at them with genuine curiosity. They wore robes of blue, the same color as the carriage, and they seemed to be made of silk. A dozen boys and girls in their late teens stood before them, they were all shivering. It was no surprise as none wore robes and some had scarves or shawls wrapped about their heads. _It's not that cold_, Cyrano thought. They were all starring at Hogwarts.

" 'As Karkaroff arrived yet," Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be by any moment now," Dumbledore said, "Would you like to wait here to greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime, "but ze 'orses—"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them of them," Dumbledore told her, "the moment he returns from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other—er—charges."

Several mutters of Skrewts could be heard from the crowd of Hogwarts students.

"My steeds need—er—forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime told him, looking as though she thought the teacher would be inadequate for the job, "Zey are very strong…."

"I assure you that Hagrid is more than perfect for the job," Dumbledore beamed at the woman.

Very well," Madame Maxime said, bowing slightly, "Will you inform zis…'Agrid, zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore who also bowed.

Come," Madame Maxime gestured to her students and the residents of Hogwarts pated to allow them into the school.

"Well, know we get to guess what the Durmstrang are coming in," Jonathan whispered out the side of his mouth.

"I bet it's not horses," Cyrano whispered back with a grin.

Silence fell once more upon the group as they waited for the next school's arrival. It was darker out now, things would be difficult to spot now.

"The Lake," Irwin, somewhere behind them, yelled. Student's gazes turned to the murky lake. Something was forming on the surface.

Cyrano realized it was a whirlpool. It was getting slightly larger as the seconds slipped by. Then, what seemed to be a black pole rose out of the water, when the rigging was spotted, Cyrano knew what the Durmstrang had come in. A giant ship lurched up out of the water, slipping onto the water's surface instead of sailing under it. An anchor could be heard dropping into the water as it approached land.

The ship looked as if it just had been resurrected from the bottom of the lake. It had a skeletal look to it and dim, misty lights shimmered at the portholes making them look like ghostly eyes. A thud of a plank on land could be heard and silhouettes looked to be disembarking.

From far off the figures shapes could be seen, they had bulkiness that beat the size of some of the Beaters of Quidditch teams of Hogwarts. When they got closer it could be seen that the bulk was due to their shaggy, matted fur cloaks that they wore. The man who led them, however, wore robes that were sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore," he called heartily as he walked up the slope, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore called back.

When the man stepped into the light escaping from the inside of the castle, it could be seen that Karkaroff was tall and thin like Dumbledore. However, his white hair was short and his goatee, which finished in a small curl, did not entirely hide his weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, both men shook hands.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said looking up at the castle with a smile. Cyrano, with a mental shiver, saw that the smile did not extend to his eyes, which were cold and shrewd, "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along into the warmth….you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…."

Cyrano knew it was a lie. If his suspicions were correct, Karkaroff just wanted to show off his prized pupil. Which, a few seconds later, Cyrano saw that he's suspicions were correct. Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch seeker, stalked by as Karkaroff led him inside.

Cyrano heard the whispers before they stated. Girls and boys alike were wondering if the famous Quidditch player would sign something of theirs. He rolled his eyes as the residents of the school followed the small group inside; he had been there at the Quidditch World Cup and had been amazed by the young seeker. However, Cyrano didn't quite care to wonder if he had a quill on him, one because he didn't plainly care and two because he figured the poor guy needed a break from the swarms of fans.

Off to the side he thought he heard Morgan say, "Damn, I left my quill with my bags."

Author's Note: This chapters done and more on the way. There are a few things I'd like to address. One, I will only make reference to Cyrano's secret until I wish for it to come out, all you'll know is he has transformed or what not to signify it. Second, a lot of what was said between Dumbledore and the other heads of schools were taken straight from the book with a few modifications. Third, Jonathan was a replacement for Ron, but lacks the attitude he had. Next chapter will jump around between the four champions and Dumbledore, Dumbledore because it will explain a little about Cyrano's past. (I fogot to pu in last time, Please Rate and Comment)


	3. The Fourth

Authors Note: I know this won't get that many views, but it is something I have wanted to do. Anyway the next chapter will go through the welcoming feast and the announcements of the champions. As I had stated last chapter, viewpoints will jump around a bit for this chapter, mostly during the welcoming feast and the name announcements. The last two chapters have been around five thousand words; this is likely to have more because of what I want to get in. In this chapter, nearer to the end, will learn more about Cyrano's past.

The Hogwarts students took their seats at their respectable tables, the foreigners stood around a second or so before choosing places. The Beauxbatons sat at the Ravenclaw table, well the Durmstrang took seats at the Slytherin table. Some students were still trying to get a good look at Krum. Cyrano was thinking that he was lucky that there was no visible connection to who he was, or the foreigners would likely be staring at Cyrano as much as Hogwarts students were looking at them.

"I wander where they sleep," Jonathan asked.

"Probably in what they came in," Cyrano told him not caring much, "the ship looked large enough and the carriage is likely expanded inside."

"The Durmstrangs look better than the Beauxbatons lot," Morgan said gesturing with her head to the French group.

Cyrano looked at them; some were still wearing their scarves. They were looking around, amazed by the largeness of the castle, though clearly they thought they had stayed in cleaner places. Then he looked at the Durmstrang group, they were staring around with the same amazement, but none of them had any disgust etched into their faces, in fact, awe seemed to be more their expression.

"You can say that again," Cyrano muttered as he watched several Durmstrang students pick up the golden plates and goblets and inspected them. Others were pulling off their shaggy cloaks as they looked, wide-eyed up at fake astronomy stricken ceiling of the Great Hall.

Cyrano noticed Filch adding four more chairs to the staff table, two on either side of Dumbledore. He knew two were for Karkaroff and Maxime, but who else was coming.

"Likely Ministry representatives," Jonathan said after he voiced his thought, "Dumbledore's not the only one who gets to explain things."

After all the students had filed into the Great Hall and into their seats, the staff entered. Last in line were Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime. As soon as the tall woman entered, her students jumped to their feet bringing a few rounds of laughter from some Hogwarts students. A few of the Beauxbatons students looked embarrassed, but did not re-seat themselves until their headmistress took her seat. Dumbledore did not sit, soon silence filled the hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and—most particular—guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students, "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

A derisive laugh echoed through the Great Hall, it had come from a Beauxbatons student. She still had a muffler wrapped around her head. Some grumbling could be heard from some of the Hogwarts students.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore said, "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Dumbledore sat down and instantly started a conversation with Karkaroff.

The golden plates on the tables automatically filled with food. Cyrano heard collective gasps from the foreigners; apparently they had not been expecting that. Though some of the food was the same, a variety of foreign foods appeared as well.

"What _is_ this," Morgan asked her brother looking at a sort of shellfish stew.

"I _don't_ know, does it look like I've ever left the country," Jonathan answered, "it looks to be some kind of sea food stew."

"You try it and maybe I'll do the same," Morgan said pushing the dish to her twin. He looked at it as if it would bite back.

"Oh, both of you are wimps," Cyrano exclaimed, "hand it over."

Jonathan pushed the dish over to him; Cyrano accepted it and dished some out onto his plate. When he tried some, he found that it wasn't that bad and ate the rest of the serving that he had put on his plate.

Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall, sidling behind the staff table to get to his seat.

"Hey Hagrid, Skrewts giving you a hard time," Morgan called to their big friend.

"Nothin'I can' handle," Hagrid called back with a wave.

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

* * *

He had stepped into the school with the rest of the Hogwarts resident, following the retreating group of Durmstrang. Cedric swore if he ever got a chance to fly with Krum he would seize the moment. It wasn't like he was like the rest of the school that wanted his autograph or anything, he just wanted to see his skills against a world class famous Seeker.

Cedric grabbed a seat at the Hufflepuff table, watching as the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons mile around until they took seats at the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.

"Hey Cedric," came the voice of his best friend Michael, Cedric turned to meet the brown haired youth, "you decide if you'll enter yourself into the tournament?"

"What, me do something that stupid," Cedric said with mock surprise, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I thought you might," Michael grinned.

"For a thousand galleons and honor for our school, you bet I'm doing it," Cedric said with a grin of his own.

"Just to let you know, you better win, I bet 12 galleons on you," his other friend Garrick said. Cedric shook his head with a smile, he had heard about the two Gryffindor friends walking around taking bets on who would get to be Hogwarts's Champion.

He turned his attention back to the front as Dumbledore began to speak.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and—most particular—guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

Cedric heard a mocking laugh from somewhere among the ranks of the Beauxbatons, but couldn't see its owner. He frowned. _Really, if you're here you could at least act grateful_, he thought. Dumbledore continued.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Dumbledore sat down and started making small talk with the Durmstrang headmaster, Karkaroff.

"What the bloody hell happened to our food," the voice of Michael reached Cedric's ears. He turned to see that the plates had indeed filled with food, but some new dishes were thrown in as well.

"Well, let's not act rude," Cedric said with a mocked sigh, his humor returning. Though they did try some of the new foods and to say it was something was modest. Some did end up quite appealing, well others they found to strange for the style of taste.

* * *

He hated it every time Karkaroff paraded him around like he owned him. It would have been a much better life style. Though that wasn't to say he didn't like the attention he got from fans, but sometimes, like that day, he found it irritating, and it wasn't because he had a slight cold.

When they entered the castle's dining hall, his eyes instantly fixed themselves on the starry sky. _That can't be the real sky; the veather has blanketed the sky vith clouds today_, Krum thought with a frown. He wasn't sure where to sit when the host students sat down at their tables. He decided with a few others of the Durmstrang students to sit at a table under a banner of green and silver, with a snake.

To his announce a boy with brown hair started talking to him.

"So you're Viktor Krum aren't you," obviously the boy knew or he wouldn't be talking to him.

"Yes," Viktor said wearily. The boy took this as a sign to continue talking.

"It's amazing to meet you, my names Nicodemus Sandon. I just like to say that I saw you….," the boy continued talking, but Krum just ignored him. Like he said before he liked when fans gave him attention, but today was a bad day, plus he didn't quite like the look of the boy.

"Do you think this is real gold," asked one of his classmates, he wasn't real familiar with the guy, but he knew his name, which was Ahern. He was examining one of the golden goblets,

"Yes, I vould suspect so," Viktor answered, he was amused at the curiosity of his classmates. He would be too, if he wasn't so worried about tomorrows events.

The headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore if he heard Karkaroff right, welcomed them and said he hoped they would find it comfortable at the castle. Viktor thought it would be one of the more pleasant places he'd ever stay, but apparently a Beauxbatons had not. A mocking laugh rang out in the Great hall, it had come from the Ravenclaw table.

The headmaster continued, telling them that the next day the tournament would officially open and allowed them to feast.

Viktor was surprised when he turned his attention back to the table to find that nearly all the dishes had been filled with food. He could see familiar dishes of his home land and then there were others he had never seen before. He decided, for tonight, he would try some of the foreign dishes.

* * *

She had followed Madame Maxime into the castle; it was one of the few amazing things she had ever seen. The starry sky replicated that of outside if it hadn't been clouded over. The hall was huge, something she had never seen before.

The students of Hogwarts passed by them as they took their seats; she heard quiet whispers about the Krum fellow. She had heard his name before, but didn't take much interest into it seeing as it connected to Quidditch. She didn't hate the game, in fact she liked to watch it sometimes with her father, but she didn't like flying much, or at least broomsticks.

She moved with the group as it sat down at one of the tables, it had the colors of blue and black, a figure of a Raven embroidered on the front.

She glanced once more at the fake ceiling and then turned her attention back to the table. Some of her classmates started chatting with a few of the students from Hogwarts. She saw that the plates were made out of gold; it didn't surprise her that much though.

She could see eyes on her; she knew it was because she had refused to remove her muffler. She was hoping that she wasn't coming off as rude, of course she couldn't explain that either. See Fleur Delacour was part Veela and she had inherited the beauty and allure of a Veela, making it very difficult to be around men. Seeing as most of the men here were younger than her, it would be very uncomfortable to be around them. They would start tripping over the hems of their robes or drooling when eating food.

The group of Beauxbatons jumped to their feet when their Headmistress entered. Several laughs came out from the residents students of Hogwarts. Fleur just shrugged them off though, it was a strange custom, but they were used to it. They sat back down only after Madame Maxime did.

The headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, remained standing so he could address the hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and—most particular—guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

Fleur's laugh echoed across the hall. She blushed soon afterwards as she heard angry whispers. She hadn't meant to sound rude, she had only been thinking about how it would be around all the men here. The laugh had made it sound as though she had been judging the school. The headmaster continued.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Fleur was shocked when she found the plates all had filled on their own. She immediately spotted the food that she recognized, only problem was so had the other Beauxbatons and few were willing to try the foreign food. Not to mention she was not too popular among the other girls in her school, see they were all jealous because she could attract men so easy. _If only ze knew_, Fleur thought. The other girls were also afraid of losing their boyfriends to her, so half the time at Beauxbatons she was hiding in her room.

Finally after a little while, Fleur picked up the courage, because she was still embarrassed from before to go get some of the bouillabaisse from another table. She spotted some next to a boy with dark hair that reached his shoulders; across from him was a boy who looked like he had not seen daylight for several months and food for longer. The girl next to them yelled to a figure that was just entering the hall.

"Hey Hagrid, Skrewts giving you a hard time?"

"Nothin'I can' handle," the man answered back with a wave.

Fleur stepped behind the boy with the shoulder length hair

"Excuse me," she said, "are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

The boy turned around and met her with grey eyes, apparently surprised by her arrival.

* * *

Cyrano turned around and looked deep into sapphire eyes, he hadn't sensed her approach and it had taken him by surprise. It was the girl who had laughed when Dumbledore had been talking, though now she was looking quite embarrassed. He didn't know how it was her, he just knew.

Cyrano turned to gaze at his friends. Jonathan looked like he had fallen under the Imperius curse and was trying his best to throw it off. Morgan was talking to a friend and had no noticed the arrival.

The girl spoke again, "Ze bouillabaisse, 'ave you finished with it?" this time Cyrano answered.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, here you go," he handed her the fish stew.

"Thank you," she said bowing her head.

"Yeah, no problem," Cyrano answered, turning back to his friends, though he sensed she remained a second or two before she turned and walked back to the Ravenclaw table.

"She's Veela," he heard someone whisper nearby, but then Jonathan came out of whatever he was in.

"No, only part. I can't tell whether she's half or quarter," he said as he shrugged of the rest of the Veela magic. Cyrano really could care less; Jonathan looked at him with mild surprise. _Probably wondering how I resisted her allure, well I have the answer to that already_, Cyrano scoffed in his head. Morgan nudged him with her hand to get his attention. When he looked at her she pointed to the staff table.

"Look who just arrived," Cyrano followed her hand. His eyes fell on two new arrivals.

His eyes fell on Ludo Bagman, who was wearing his ridicules quidditch robes. Then the other one was Mr. Crouch, this time wearing robes equivalent to muggle suits.

"Wonder what they're doing here," Cyrano said before he really thought about it.

Well obviously they're the ones who set up the Triwizard Tournament. They want to be here when it starts," Jonathan exclaimed, just as dessert appeared on the tables. It was also equally mixed with foreign food as the main course had been.

When the plates were cleared, Dumbledore arose once more. Excitement filled the air, everyone was excited to see what was about to happen.

"the moment has come," Dumbledore began with a smile, "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—" Some people murmured at this words, but soon the hall fell quiet again.

"—just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation—a small applause to place—and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of Department of magical Games and Sports." A louder applause broke out for him.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining me, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

The word 'champions' brought about stillness to the room. The feeling of excitement radiating from it, perhaps Dumbledore had felt it as well, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch had been lurking around the far corners of the Hall, but approached Dumbledore when he gave the order. He was carrying a heavy looking wooden chest decorated with jewels. It looked extremely old. A low rumble of voices began as students watched the proceedings, a few of the younger students even climbed up on the benches to get a better look.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said, as Filch laid the chest on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school yea, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction, and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

The last few words filled the hall with silence; no one could be heard breathing. Cyrano took a quick peek at Jonathan; he was just a spellbound as he was.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on with a calm voice, "one from each participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournaments tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked open. Dumbledore reached in and pulled out the most unremarkable wooden cup ever seen, that was, of course, before the blue flames that it held where seen. The flames danced around at the brim of cup looking almost alive. Cyrano had an eerie feeling that if the goblet had a voice it would be saying things right at that moment.

Dumbledore closed the casket and place the goblet on the table before him. The blue light from the fire reflected off his skin giving him a creepy look.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," explained Dumbledore, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of three it has judged most worthy to represent their school. The goblet will be freely accessible to all who wish to put their name forward."

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be placing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line."

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be taken lightly. Once a champion, there's no turning back. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes binding, magical contract. Therefore, please be very sure you are wholeheartedly prepared to face whatever the tournament may show you. Now I think it is time for you to go to bed. Good night to you all."

Cyrano followed his two friends as the made their way to the marble steps, well the foreigners exited out the front oak doors. Cyrano could hear people talking about the best way to get over an Age Line. _If they had only looked up more on the Tournament like I did_, thought Cyrano as the Gryffindors made their way to the Gryffindor dormitories.

* * *

Cedric breathed deeply, it was early in the morning hardly anyone had risen. He had been standing looking at the goblet's blue flames for nearly a half hour wondering if he should really chance it. His mind went back to what he had looked up on the Triwizard Tournament. It hadn't been a pleasant thing to read, it told of some of the past games and all the past deaths.

Cedric finally stepped forward putting his foot behind the Age Line. Even though he knew nothing would happen, he waited to proceed forward. The Age Line didn't react whatsoever, so he placed his other foot within too. Then with one more deep breath he placed his name into the fire, again he held still waiting for a reaction that would not come.

He stepped out of the diameter of the Age Line and looked at the Goblet of Fire once more. He had no idea that his name would be flying out of there in just a few hours.

* * *

The Durmstrangs filed in one after the other in line to place a piece of parchment into the fire. _An empty piece of parchment_, thought Viktor savagely. Karkaroff wanted his prize pupil in the tournament, so he made everyone besides Viktor slip just a blank piece of parchment into the fire.

Viktor watched as each hand reached up and place their 'names' into the goblet. There was no real challenge the Goblet of Fire would have no choice, but to pick him.

Viktor could feel Karkaroff's eyes on him as his hand etched upwards and near the fire. Once his hand was near the blue flames, he hesitated. Then his hand let the piece of parchment fall into the crackling fire.

Viktor looked back at the Goblet of Fire once more. He was the only champion who knew his name would come out of that fire for sure and he hated himself for it.

* * *

Fleur waited in line for her chance to enter her name into the goblet. She remembered the day she told her mother and father she would be entering her name in. They had both had worried expressions, she had assured them that she had thought it over and thought she could handle it.

But now, here, in front of the impartial judge, she thought maybe she wasn't quite ready for something this big. She looked at it from what headmaster Dumbledore said. The three tasks would be very difficult and you would not be able to exit the tournament after your name was called. She was so nervous she hardly realized it was her turn to go.

She stepped over the Age Line drawn around the goblet; she stared at the flickering blue flames before her hand reached up and dropped her name in. She quickly turned around and walked away, not once looking back. Her only thought was, _what have I gotten myself into._

* * *

Cyrano sat between his two friends; too excited to care he would be serving detention with Snape in not that long of time. The Halloween feast was just as it always had been, amazing. However, with the looming announcements of the champions, students finished their food long before Dumbledore and had to wait for him to finish. It seemed to take longer would stand up and tell the surrounding people how far Dumbledore was into his dinner.

At long last plates were clean and Dumbledore rose to his feet. The talking that had been happening suddenly just died. Karkaroff and Madam Maxime looked just about as exited Cyrano thought. Ludo bagman was winking to several students, but soon stopped when he realized they were paying more attention to Dumbledore then him. Mr. Crouch looked as if nothing to exciting was about to happen.

"Well the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said, "I estimate that it requires one minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber"—he indicated the door behind the staff table—"where they will receiving their first instructions."

He dimmed the lights in the hall by giving a sweeping wave around the room, all the candles within the room extinguished, except for the ones in the pumpkins, plunging them into semidarkness. The blue light from the Goblet of Fire was now the brightest thing in the room. Everything was quiet well they waited for the goblet to make its decision.

"Any second now," Cyrano heard Irwin whisper from somewhere to his left behind his back.

Suddenly the blue flames turned red with sparks, making nearly everyone jump, and even a few people scream. Then a tongue of flames shot into the air, a charred piece of paper came out of the tip of the tongue. Dumbledore caught it once it had fluttered close enough to his hand.

Dumbledore held it out in the light of the goblet, which had returned to blue.

"The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore called out, "will be Viktor Krum!"

"Bravo Viktor," Karkaroff called to his pupil over the applause in the hall, "knew you had it in you!" Cyrano followed the slouching figure of the famous quidditch player as he made his way to the staff table, walk its length, and then enter the door and disappear.

The goblet turned red once more and, "The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour!"

It was the girl who they all presumed had some Veela blood in her. She got up and did the same that Viktor had done.

"They don't look to happy," Jonathan nudged him pointing towards the rest of the Beauxbatons group during Fleur's applause. Cyrano had to agree, a few of them had even burst into tears and it was difficult to see a mature man cry.

For the third time the hall went quiet well they waited for Hogwarts champion to be called. Cyrano looked at Jack and Blake who was sitting just a couple seats down, they gave him two thumbs up each, which he returned with a grin. The fire within the goblet once more turned red and spat out a name. Cyrano kept his fingers crossed.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory," Dumbledore called out and the hall erupted with applause. Cyrano was happy for Cedric, well not to mention he won a bet, but the clapping was merely for Cedric. Unfortunately, now that that was over, Cyrano thought of his dreary hour of detention that would take place after this. Cedric disappeared through the same doorway as Fleur and Krum had.

"Excellent" Dumbledore called out as soon as the thunderous applause died down, "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

Dumbledore stopped talking as he saw several students gasp and point behind him; he turned around to find the Goblet of Fire once more ablaze with red fire. A piece of paper shot out of the fire, fluttering down slowly. He caught it just as it came into reach.

Dumbledore held the parchment in his hand and read the name in the dime light, his face became deathly pale. He then called out the name on the piece of parchment. Clearing his voice so he was sure he would read it correctly.

"_Cyrano Odion."_

Authors Note: So okay it didn't get quite to where I thought it would, but it got close. So in the next chapter, hopefully, you'll learn a little bit more about Cyrano's past, from Dumbledore's perspective. It what can I say it ended much like chapter sixteen in the actual book, but it did give some insight on the other champions point of views, which will crop up again sometime in the future at any time. The next chapter is where he tries to convince the world he didn't enter, this time with his best friend in tow though.


	4. Competeing

Authors Note: This chapter will start out being in Dumbledore's point of view, telling us a little bit about the main character. Then of course the usual stuff, telling the other champions, which will jump into their points of views their too, And then there's trying to tell the world you didn't enter. A few things of course will be thrown in to change the story cause you can't have it exactly the same can you. Now, new chapter.

"_Cyrano Odion_."

Dumbledore read it again to make sure it was right. _Well, of course, it's right, it's in ink and there on parchment_, Dumbledore thought, but didn't understand. The Goblet of Fire should not have spit out this name or any other name besides the three champions, in fact. But it was this name that made him fear what this meant.

The owner of it was none other than the Heir of Merlin, the young boy who had seen Voldemort twice in the last three years and fought of more than a hundred Dementors well being attacked by werewolves. It was this boy who had caused the down fall of Voldemort nearly fourteen years ago and it was this boy who was connected to him.

Dumbledore remembered the night he had brought him to that orphanage. He had had no family who could take him; the only one who could've was thought to have betrayed his parents. He thought the boy would have been safe there, at least until he would come to take him to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had been wrong.

Cyrano escaped the orphanage at the age of seven and by the age of eleven he was hardened from the four years on the streets. He leaned to survive quickly; he joined a gang at the age of nine. His only souvenir from that was scars that lined one side of his hair line; well the other lined the edge of his jaw.

Dumbledore remembered the day he had meet him after those eleven short years. Cyrano had given the muggle police the slip; he had just managed to get between two buildings where the cops couldn't follow. Dumbledore had been following him for quite some time before he finally showed himself.

The boy was cautious during this encounter, keeping watch around him well they talked. He burst out laughing when Dumbledore told him he was a wizard. It took only to seconds to reconsider the truth, especially after Dumbledore showed off a bit. However, the boy still felt uncertain about going with Dumbledore, so they had a compromise Dumbledore would let one of his closest friend s stay with him until the school term and he would be escorted to Hogwarts, without even thinking a second the boy took the deal. It was obvious he hated being on the streets.

It was the end of the boy's first year at Hogwarts and Dumbledore told him who he was. Heir of Merlin, it was something the boy didn't like to discuss, as it was for that reason Voldemort killed his parents.

Dumbledore left the boy with his friends family figuring it would do him good to be with a family. When the boy returned, it nearly brought tears to his eyes to see the boy less cold and friendlier. That year went by and the boy discovered his link with Voldemort, he also learned a gruesome truth he also does not like to talk about.

He returned for his third year, survived Dementors and watched as his friend was bitten by a werewolf and within the last few months had to see the friend already transform four times. Dumbledore mentally shook his head for the boy; favors just never seemed to be on his side.

Now the Headmaster walked as Cyrano got up and walked to the front, with whispers of 'cheat' and 'underage'.

When the boy reached him, Dumbledore held out the piece of parchment with his name on it. Cyrano took it and looked at his name. The boy looked up and said, "Albus, this piece of paper never touched my hands."

Dumbledore wanted to smile, but the situation was too dire to do so. The boy always used Dumbledore's first name when he was talking dead right serious. He had done it the day he met him, the day he first saw Voldemort after eleven years, the day he figured out his other side, and the day his friend became a werewolf. It was a characteristic that he hoped never left the boy.

He watched as the boy strode along the staff table, glancing at every single professor, and left to the chamber beyond the door.

* * *

Cyrano carried the piece of parchment until he exited the Great Hall, then he let it slip from his fingers as he continued down the stairs. Out of all the things he had thought that was coming when the goblet lit up for the fourth time, his name being called out was not one of them.

He heard the names they had been calling him, but he didn't care much, they didn't know the truth. Now what was the truth? Cyrano was an unexpected champion and he didn't know how. Soon he found himself with the other three champions, standing in front of a fire place. It took some seconds before they realized he was there, then it was the silver-haired, sapphire eyed, champion that talked first.

"What is it," Fleur asked, "Do ze want us back in ze Hall?"

Cyrano was trying to find the right words to say when, unfortunately, Ludo Bagman came in all excited. His boyish face lit up with a smile, and then he let the Berty-Bott's beans out of the bag.

"Extraordinary," he muttered, squeezing Cyrano's arm much to his discomfort, "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen…and Lady, may I introduce—as incredible as it may seem—the _fourth _Triwizard champion?"

Cyrano knew that it hadn't gotten through their skulls the first time. Viktor automatically started examining the new arrival. Cedric only had a stunned look on his face as he looked between Ludo and Cyrano, Cyrano stomach jolted every time Cedric eyes fell on him. Fleur seemed to be the only one to have not really understood it because she flipped her silver hair behind a shoulder and said with a smile, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke," repeated, bewildered, "No, no , not at all! Cyano's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire."

Cyrano caught a glimpse of Krum's eyebrows rising slightly. Cedric still had a an expression of shock. It still hadn't gotten through Fleur's thinking proses though.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake, " Fleur frowned , "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

Cyrano's anger flared for a second, but ignored it. She obviously didn't know what he had done the last few years, and although he wanted to show her he was not too young, he still wanted people in the dark of who he was, especially the foreigners. However, Bagman wanted to keep talking.

"Well…it is amazing," Bagman told her, rubbing his chin as he smiled down on Cyrano, "But, as you know, the age restrictions was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet…I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…It's down in the rules, you're obliged…Cyrano will just give it the best he's—"

The door which the four champions had entered as well as Bagman opened; a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Cyrano now remembered the detention he was supposed to be having with Snape, he groaned inwardly. McGonagall shut the door after she entered, cutting of the buzzing noise of hundreds of students, no doubt discussing about what just transpired.

"Madame Maxime," fleur exclaimed having, apparently figure out what bagman had said, moved next to her headmistress, "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete!"

That's when Cyrano lost it, he could handle being called young, but then being called a little boy, two insults were enough for Cyrano.

* * *

Again Fleur regretted what she did before she even thought about the outcome. She was surprised to see how intently the boy could stare with his grey eyes. In that time before he spoke, she noticed something strange. Why did his eyes seem to have fogged up?

"Do you have any idea what I've experienced," whispered the boy known as Cyrano with a dangerous tone, it rose slightly with what he said next.

"Excuse us, Odion, but we don't have time for your fanciful fairy tales," a greasy haired professor sneered at the boy, but was silenced by Dumbledore, who apparently was intent for Cyrano to finish. Cyrano continued without once taking his eyes away or blinking as he held Fleur's eyes.

"Do you know what it's like to see the murderer of your parents after eleven year, four of which you spent on the streets," Fleur wanted to look away, but the anger in his misted eyes kept her eyes glued on him, "Have you ever faced down a sixty foot basilisk or defended a loved one from a hundred Dementors, "his voice lowered again, "or have you ever had to watch as a close friend of yours turn into a savage beast every full moon because he took the bite for you?"

Cyrano let the questions hang in the air; unfortunately, Fleur couldn't say she had experienced any of those things. However, what she could say, but was smart enough not say it, was she had not believed a word.

She was taking in the boy before here; despite his age, he was good few inches taller than her. Muscular arms, he seemed to do heavy work a lot. He had two scars outlining one side of his jaw line; well the other outlined the opposite side of his hair line. In his eyes she saw lots of anger, most of it aimed at her. She caught a glimpse of something else in the eyes of the boy, but she couldn't place it.

"I didn't think so," he said as he pulled his eyes away, glancing around the room.

* * *

Cedric was surprised by the anger in Cyrano's words. Now don't get him wrong, Cedric knew Cyrano, not personally, he actually liked the fellow and he had wished it had been him he faced off with at their last quidditch match together, but Cyrano was a Beater. He didn't know enough to know what all he said was true, but enough to know that some was. He remembered hearing about the Sorceress Stone incident, back in Cyrano's first year. He also knew that they had been out in the forest last year when the Dementors caught Sirius Black, only to lose him again, but he didn't know if he had fought them off.

It had become very quiet in the room; no one seemed to know where to go from there, it had been a strange interruption.

"Ah, but of course he is lying," Madame Maxime finally interjected, "'Ow could a young man such as zis do such zings." Cedric glanced at Cyrano, the anger was there, but he seemed to be holding back.

"I have evidence to show you that he is telling the truth, my dear lady," Dumbledore said, looking at the giant woman. Cedric himself felt curious to what evidence Dumbledore had of those events. He found it unlikely Dumbledore had been there for them, but then there had been things covered up that had never been answered. For one, how all those people ended up petrified back during his fourth year, a basilisk would explain it if the victim had not looked in the eyes correctly….

She scoffed, "I would like to see such evidence."

"Then, you may visit me after this meeting in my office where we can discuss it," Dumbledore said.

Karkaroff finally let it go, Cedric was surprised he had lasted so long without popping, "Dumbledore we were under the impression that you Age Line would keep the younger students from entering."

"It was," Dumbledore said, and added seeing his next argument, "and there is no way I could have failed to draw a proper Age Line."

"Zen, perhaps you can tell us why you 'ave two champions, when me and Karkaroff 'ave only one," Madame Maxime asked, Moody entered the room. Cedric watched the mutilated man take his place in a dark corner. Moody having seen Cedric watching, held a single finger to his lips.

"It is most simple, someone tampered with the goblet," Dumbledore said gravely, "and their main focus is obviously Mr. Odion here."

* * *

Viktor raised his eyebrows at the headmaster's comment, which was good and valid. Who wanted the boy so badly they would enter his name into the Goblet of Fire?

Karkaroff immediately demanded a re-due, to enter another's name in the goblet, until each school had two champions.

"I'm afraid, Karkaroff, that we are unable to do that," the greasy haired professor, Snape, if Viktor was correct, told Viktor's headmaster, "the Goblet of Fire went out a soon as Mr. Odion's name came out of it."

"Then I think I will remove our involvement in this fixed completion," spat Karkaroff. Viktor had seen Karkaroff in such a rage before, but here, at Hogwarts, it seemed insignificant

"Empty threats, Karkaroff," Moody finally spoke, "your champion can't leave because of the binding magical contract he signed when he entered his name into the Goblet of Fire."

Krum fixed his eyes on the new arrival; it was one of the few things that had ever surprised him. The man had matted grey hair that hung over his face. It didn't prevent, however, the view of the mangled skin. He had a chunk of skin missing from his nose; his mouth seemed more like a gash then a natural opening. His electric blue eye was kept, fixated, on Karkaroff.

"Then, I will lodge a complaint with the Ministry of magic and—"

"If anyone has the right to complain it would be Cyrano, but I don't hear one word out of him," Moody said. Krum turned his gaze back on the boy, taking in his figure more than he had been before. He was built for the rank of Beater, he was just a bit shorter than Viktor, but his presence seemed to be larger. His grey eyes where what interested Krum the most, they were fogged over, like a daze look, but not. Despite that though, he could see the angers just below the surface of his stormy grey eyes.

"Why should 'e complain," Fleur burst out, she stamped her foot, "'E 'as ze chance to compete,'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money—zis is a chance many would die for!" Viktor cringed, the girl, obviously was having a hard time keeping her mouth shut. She must have realized she had said the wrong thing because she flinched when Cyrano fixed his eyes on her once more.

* * *

Cyrano got infuriated again at that comment, what reason did he have for to complain? The fact that he didn't want to be here was one and the other was the fact that he had seen so many things already in the past three years. However, Moody's next statement cast a grim mood in the room.

"Maybe someone's hoping Odion is going to die for it," growled Moody, his magical eye twirling around in its socket.

Cyrano thought it over, why would someone want him in the tournament? _Because there will be nobody around to save me in case something happened_, Cyrano thought. He's mind wondered some more well Karkaroff and Moody bickered.

"…innocent occasions to their advantage, "Moody retorted to a comment of Karkaroff's, "It's my job to think like Dark Wizards do, Karkaroff—as you ought to remember …"

"Alastor," Dumbledore warned the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Moody fell silent as he watched in triumph well Karkaroff's face burned with anger.

"We have no choice to accept what has happened," Dumbledore said to everyone in the room, "We do not know how this situation arose, but we must except that both Cedric and Cyrano will compete in the Tournament."

"Dumbly-dorr—"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, we'd like to hear it."

He waited for Maxime to respond, but it was evident that she had no alternative. Snape was furious, likely because this was cutting into their detention time, but it wouldn't matter, Snape would hold him back regardless. Karkaroff looked like he was about to pull out his wand and start hexing everyone in the room. Only Bagman had the expression of excitement.

"Well, should we move on," he said smiling around the room, but his enthusiasm was not returned, "The champions must receive their instructions. Barty want to take it from here."

Mr. Crouch obviously hadn't been paying attention because he responded with, "yes…instructions…first task."

He stepped into the firelight; Cyrano thought he looked like he had become ill.

"The first task is meant to challenge your daring," he told the four champions as he glanced at each one, "so we are not going to be telling you what you will face. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important… the first task will take place on November the 24th in front of the other students and the panel of judges."

Mr. Crouch sighed before continuing, "The champions are not permitted to ask or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge only with their wands. They will receive information on the second task when the first one is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, you four will be exempted from end-of-year tests."

"I believe that is all Albus," Mr. Crouch said.

"Yes, I believe so," he turned to the champions as Bagman and Crouch left, bagman trying to get Mr. Crouch to stay, "and it is about time you went to your beds. Madame Maxime if, after you take Miss Delacour back, you would still like to chat, you may find me in my office."

Snape stepped forward as Karkaroff and Maxime led their champions out of the chamber, "Headmaster, Mr. Odion is supposed to be serving detention with me and with—"

"The current circumstance," Dumbledore interrupted, "I believe Mr. Odion will be excused from this detention." Snape looked like he had just taken a Bludger to the face. Dumbledore turned back to the remaining champions.

"Go on you two, I'm sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting for their champions. Wouldn't want to dampen the festive mood," Dumbledore said, beaming at both Cedric and Cyrano.

Both champions glanced at one another before exciting the chamber. The Great Hall was dark and empty. They were nearing the marble staircase when Cedric stopped him and then said," So I guess were going up against one another."

"Yeah, if you want to look it like that," Cyrano said, he could see Cedric glance at him with a confuse expression, "look I may have been picked, but I had nothing to do with my name coming out of the goblet. I had. actually, been hoping for you to get picked."

"Really," Cedric asked looking pleased.

"Yeah and the fact that I'm a champion doesn't change that you were picked first. So if any champion is going to make it through this tournament, I'm going to make sure it's you," Cyrano said, it was the truth and a way to try and get Cedric to believe him that he had not entered his name into the goblet.

"Well, thanks Cy, its ok if I call you Cy right," Cedric asked, Cyrano nodded his approval," but I don't think that would be fair, I mean, you were also chosen—"

"And we don't know why. No, you're the real Hogwarts champion; it wasn't fair for you when my name came out," Cyrano could see in Cedric's eyes that he was trying to find a way around that argument.

He apparently couldn't find one so he said, "Thanks again Cy. " he turned to walk down a corridor, but then turned around, "look I'll see if I can tell the other Hufflepuff's to lay off you, as I imagine they aren't too happy with what just happened. I tell them what you told me."

"Thanks Cedric," Cyrano called after him before he made his way up the marble staircase.

He walked past whispering portraits; he ignored the painted eyes, his mind too lost in thought to hear what they were saying. The dream he had during the summer seemed to be unfolding, but what exactly Voldemort would gain out of it he didn't know. Cyrano figured if he survived the tasks then he would thwart the Dark Lord's plans, after all there was no way he could get close to him during school. Cyrano, however, felt he should watch his step from there on.

He found he had walked right up to the Fat Lady without even realizing he had not been watching where he had been going. He stared at the portrait; he didn't want to go in. He felt like a cheat despite the fact he wasn't. He wanted to back away and go talk to Ignatius, but he knew he would only be avoiding the inevitable,

"Well are you just going to stand there or you going to tell me the password," Cyrano shook his head to clear it.

"Balderdash," the portrait swung outwards revealing a full common room. As soon as the group inside spotted who was entering, they burst out with applause. The noise the made was so loud; Cyrano thought his eardrums had popped.

Jack and Blake took no time in hosting him up onto their shoulders and paraded him around the room. People where asking how he had managed to get his name in the goblet so much, he didn't even have the time to answer.

Jack and Blake handed Cyrano the money he had won in the bet, Cyrano suddenly felt like tossing the money into the crowd. He ended up doing exactly that, it had given him enough time to slip from the crowd and up into the dormitories, where he found Jonathan waiting with a concerned look.

"What happened," he asked. Cyrano was glad his friend had not reacted badly to the event.

"Well, I can't say I tried to get myself out of the tournament, it wouldn't have done much good against a binding contract," Cyrano explained sitting down on his big fore-poster bed and finished bluntly with, "so I have to compete."

Jonathan's face looked calm at this comment, apparently he had expected as much, he said," you'd better send a letter to Sirius he would want to know right away, and it's better coming from you then the Prophet."

"I'll do it tomorrow when I can get Archimedes," Cyrano said. It fell quiet and soon they went to bed. It was an hour or so afterwards when everyone else went to bed. It took even longer before the others fell asleep. When Cyrano was sure no one was left awake, he slipped out of bed.

He had the Marauder's map with him, constantly checking to make sure there was no one nearby. He wanted to speak with Ignatius; he had been around during the last tournaments and had seen the brutalities.

"Well, I can't say I actually saw it," Ignatius said, when Cyrano asked him, "I only heard about the tasks. Trust me; you don't want to know what happened during the last Tournament."

Cyrano frowned; he was hoping his friend would have been a little more insightful.

"Why do you ask," Ignatius questioned suspiciously. Cyrano saw no way of getting around the truth, his friend would discover it sooner or later. He told the stone dragon what had happened at the feast. He could already guess the serpent's reaction.

"WHAT," Ignatius hissed, "how the bloody hell could they let that happen? There were supposed to be age restrictions and…"

Cyrano tried to cut across him, "Ignatius, it is—"

"…swore to Merlin himself, when I had an actual body, that I would protect any of his kin when they appeared," the white, two foot-tall marble dragon continued, not having heard Cyrano, "and by golly I'll keep my promise until all that's left of me is stone dust. I wish I could—"This time Cyrano was successful to interrupt.

"Ignatius you can't even move from that spot," Cyrano said, Ignatius huffed.

"_Well_, that's not my fault; if that brat had listened to me instead of taking his anger out on me, I would not be here," Cyrano smirked. Ignatius had been marked to that spot nearly six-hundred years before hand by a student who had found the nagging dragon quite tiresome.

"You shouldn't have pushed him so hard; he would have learned the spell correctly sooner or later," Cyrano grinned; he got another huff from his friend.

"And when are you going to keep your promise, when will I be able to move from this confounded place," Ignatius asked.

"Just as soon as I learn the spell," Cyrano's grin grew even larger with the stone's discomfort.

"Would've learned it already if I wasn't stuck here," Ignatius mumbled under his breath, despite that, Cyrano heard him.

"What was that," he asked with mock innocents.

"Nothing," Ignatius said grumpily. Silence fell between the two, it wasn't uncomfortable, it was a silence shared by two friends. Ignatius asked if Cyrano knew what he faced in the first task; Cyrano informed him he had no idea.

"Then we can likely guess it's something that will be difficult to go against," Ignatius said.

"I hadn't expected that," Cyrano said with sarcasm, "I didn't quite get it when Dumbledore urged us not to try and enter."

"Seriously, we must think carefully about this. They spent months working on this, tell me exactly what they told you when they explained the first task," Ignatius insisted, Cyrano told him everything word for word, "hmm, sounds like you'll being going one on one with something. They also said you couldn't except help from teachers, but didn't say anything about fellow students. That will work to your advantage." Cyrano and Ignatius spent some time with Ignatius, thinking over what could help him against an unknown enemy.

"Simple spells," Ignatius told him, "will be your best shot. You know, things like stunning spells, or a force spell, you know, something through it backwards. It also might help you with the judges, after all using simple spells in a difficult situation shows brains. It will show the other champions you're not to be over looked."

"What if I need a more powerful spell," Cyrano frowned, indeed it would be good just to finish the task with the simplest of spells, but Cyrano doubted that would happen.

"You'll have to decide on your own what you might need or not, I don't exactly have a hand in magic except for that which dragons are granted," Ignatius shrugged with his front shoulder blades.

It was early in the morning when Cyrano decided it was time to go back to the dormitories. He was going to have a long day tomorrow especially since he had been excused from detention, Snape would be extra evil.

Cyrano laid in his bed thinking in was in for a very rough year.

* * *

Cedric had entered the Hufflepuff common room much the same way as Cyrano had entered Gryffindor's, with lots of applauding and cheering. Only Gryffindor had left out bad comments about Cedric, Hufflepuff was showing great anger at the rival champion.

"Don't worry Ced, you'll show the Gryffindor cheat."

"Make sure you beat him bad Cedric."

These were a few comments that they had thrown out and Cedric was determined for it to stop. Cyrano had shown Cedric that he could be trusted.

"Now stop it," he said as another hateful comment escaped into the air, "Cyrano said he didn't enter his name and I for one believe him."

"You can't trust the cheat, his lying straight to your face, Ced," a voice came from the back.

"No, I tell you, I was there you didn't hear him," Cedric said, the room went quiet, ''he even told me that he would help me win the tournament."

Cedric could tell most of them didn't believe him, there were a few faces that had softened, but not many. However, they stopped bad mouthing Cyrano and started asking questions about the first task and what he would do when he won. He laughed and corrected them, saying if he won, but they didn't want to see it like that.

It was some time before their party ended and Cedric went to the dormitories. He lay awake, thinking about the day's events. His thoughts turned back to Cyrano, he was still trying to figure out why Cyrano had basically told him he would allow Cedric to win. It was something Cedric had never seen before, normally any other person would have being overjoyed about being picked, but that's not how Cyrano acted. Cedric had seen the guilt in his grey eyes when he told him he was going to make sure Cedric won. Did he dare think it; _Is he more of the champion than me?_

Author's Note: With this chapter done I'll just say that the next few chapters are going to be hard to get through because I want to put at least two more chapters in before the first task. Let me just say that _that _will be a chapter; I plan to go through each champions point of view well they take on the dragons. When I first thought about the tasks, I thought about making my own, but when I looked back at it, I really had no good ideas for tasks. So I decided that the tasks will stay the same. Rate and comment, be nice this is only my second fanfic ever.


	5. Wands

Author's Note: The beginning of this chapter will start with Fleur's point-of-view, I think it's going off to an OC/Fleur thing, or, as I would know it, Cyrano/Fleur thing. It would take some time to form the relationship, probably even go off into the fifth year and possibly farther if I can hold my mind on the fanfic long enough. With school coming up it will get harder to focus with all the homework I'll get, but I will return at some point. However let's not focus on future times and just focus this chapter at hand. Hope you enjoy

Fleur woke up with the events of the day before still streaming through her mind. She was in her bed room, which was in the carriage they had arrived in. Each person had gotten their own private quarters, and they would eat with one another at the dining table if they did not go eat up at the castle. Fleur decided she would go eat up at the school, it was better to be embarrassed by the way she had acted, then be made miserable because of what she was, or a quarter of what she was. Besides she promised Madame Maxime she would find the boy, Cyrano, and apologize for what she had said.

It had been strange; the headmistress had left the carriage with her head held high and returned with an ashen faced. She had summoned Fleur to her private living space soon after she returned. Fleur had entered the room not sure why she was being called for. Madame Maxime had gestured for her to sit.

"What is eet Madame, what 'ave you zeen," Fleur asked slightly concerned.

"Fleur, promise me you will apologize to ze other 'Ogwarts champion, Cyrano Odion," Madame Maxime had said not even looking at the young Delacour. She seemed to be staring off at some distant event.

"I don't understand—"

"Promise me," the French headmistress interrupted, she finally looked at Fleur and there was anger there.

"I…I promise," Fleur said a bit frightened, "but Madame Maxime may I ask what you 'ave zeen?"

"Dumbly-dorr 'as shown me past events, but only zings he has zeen for himself," Madame Maxime was again staring off into the distance, "despite zose being very few, I now know the young man Cyrano has zeen much." She dismissed Fleur, who went to bed wondering what Madame Maxime had seen to leave her in such a state.

Fleur removed herself from bed and took her time in the bath, when she was finished; she picked out a clean uniform and put it on. She left her room and walked up the hallway into the dining room, she was confronted by her two friends.

"Zo,what are you up to zis day," Christelle Leverett asked. The girl was the same age as Fleur and they both shared the same characteristics, quarter Veela. Her long silver hair was identical to Fleur's, but her eyes were just as silver as her hair, instead of sapphire like Fleur's.

"And may we accompany you," smiled the other girl. Her name was Veronique Romain, she was also the same age as Fleur, though she lacked the Veela part. She had light brown hair and the same color of eyes as her hair.

"Yes you may come with me, I was just about to go up to ze castle to get some breakfast," Fleur told them, though she knew they were actually curios as to why Maxime had wanted her. They followed her as she exited the carriage and started up the steep slope leading to the castle of Hogwarts. The carriage had been parked a couple hundred meters from a small wooden cabin, the owner of it was working with something in crate, that she could only guess what was inside. The big shaggy man pulled out his hand as sparks escaped from the crate, there were about thirty identical crates that the man was working in.

"Zo, what did Madame Maxime want," Christelle asked casually. Fleur had been ready for the question, and gave a simple answer.

"She wanted to talk about what 'appened after ze feast," Fleur said holding back a grin, she would, of course, have to tell them that Maxime had told her to apologize to Cyrano, but she didn't have to tell them what for. They tried several more times to get her to answer them straight; soon they became frustrated when she evaded answering. Fleur laughed at another failed attempt.

"Fleur, stop zis, we want to know what 'appened," Veronique said.

"Okay, okay," Fleur said before her face became expressionless, "she just wanted to make sure I apologized to ze second Hogwarts champion."

"What for," Christelle asked. Fleur shrugged, she didn't actually want to talk about it because she still remembered the anger in Cyrano's eyes. The made it to the front steps of the castle and climbed them. When she entered the Great Hall she looked at the table Cyrano had been sitting at, he had not arrived at breakfast, so Fleur strolled over to the Ravenclaw table and started on food.

It was some time before Cyrano came to the Great Hall and during this time Fleur watched the host students chat. Some of the boys were staring in her and her friend's direction, but Fleur ignored them, knowing they were being attracted to the allure. That was the thing about being part Veela; you could never have a regular relationship, unless you found someone unaffected by the allure.

Cyrano finally did make his appearance after an hour and half of waiting; it looked, to Fleur, like he had gotten little sleep. He didn't notice that Fleur was in the Hall and automatically sat down at the Gryffindor table. Fleur ran his name through her mind several times, she hadn't realized until today that the name was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

She finally decided it was time to do what she had promised Maxime. She gestured for her friends to follow, she didn't know if his stormy eyes would be filled with anger if he saw her again, but didn't want to face it alone. She was surprised that he caused her to be scared of his eyes. She walked up behind him and cleared her throat. His friend, the one who looked rather sickly, looked up first and fell into a daze; she could see him mentally fighting it. He was trying to get his face in an appropriate expression and within a few seconds managed it. Fleur sighed; _Well at least some have a bit of control._

Fleur then realized she had Cyrano's attention; she looked into his eyes for the anger, but only found calmness. She realized he also didn't react to her allure.

"Eh, excuse me," she started rather lamely, "but may I say something?"

Cyrano frowned, "Go ahead, I can't stop you."

"I would just lie to apologize for what I said yesterday, I 'ad not meant for eet to sound the way it came out," Fleur could see the young man's mind quickly behind the expressionless mask. Well she waited for hi answer she glanced at the girl across from him; she was obviously the twin to the sickly looking boy. Fleur could feel many eyes on them now; she wished he would answer her.

"Can I ask you a question Miss Delacour," the question caught her off guard, she nodded her head though, "are you apologizing because your headmistress asked you to or have you come up here on your own free will?"

Fleur answered with the truth, "At first eet might 'ave been because of Madam Maxime, but I truly do feel sorry for what I said."

"Okay, thank you for apologizing," he turned back to his food. Fleur found that her curiosity of the young man had risen with his brief answer she looked for something to ask about. She saw that his right hand was wrapped in bandages, but he seemed to be using it just fine.

"What is with your 'and," her friends were probably wondering why she was spending so much time on a rival champion. It was simple; she wanted to know who he was.

"Eh…," Cyrano said glancing at it, "I got cut."

"Shouldn't your nurse 'ave 'ealed it already," Fleur asked, she could see the matter was uncomfortable from the frightened expressions his friends were shooting him. He turned to look at her again.

"Got cut with something that wouldn't allow it to heal properly," Fleur knew he was still hiding the truth, but decided to leave it, "listen is there a reason your still here, not to be rude or anything, but I thought you came to apologize?"

Again Fleur answered with the truth, "I did, but I 'ave this feeling that I've 'eard about you from somewhere."

The sickly boy spoke up, "Well you should have, he's the first person to be named Heir of Merlin in the last—"He stopped when his sister smacked him.

"Thanks Jonathan, could have at least remembered to keep your mouth shut," Cyrano told the boy, he turned back to Fleur, "well there you have it, my friend here is Jonathan Blaxton and that's his sister Morgan. Yes, I'm the Heir of Merlin, but I don't like to claim it because it draws too much unwanted attention."

Fleur now remembered, she had read about the discovery of an Heir of Merlin two years ago. It was right after the school term had begun and everyone had been talking about it because it was the same kid who had destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She hadn't paid to much attention to it because it hadn't concerned her, but her little sister Gabrielle had obsessed over it. Everyone had thought the child had died the same night, but eleven years later he had arrived at Hogwarts. It had been a big deal for some time, Gabrielle still obsessed over it.

Fleur took as seat next to the girl, Morgan, much to Cyrano's and the twins' surprise. She had a few questions to ask, for herself and for Gabrielle, who she thought might kill her if she ever learned Fleur had met him.

* * *

Cyrano found the interrogation by the three French women amusing and irritating at the same time. They wanted to know if what the heard about him was true or not. It went on for bit, but Cyrano made sure to let it stop when the question about his eyes popped up. See he couldn't explain that without giving away his secret which he wanted to keep for as long as possible.

After they left, Jonathan relaxed, he had been doing his best to stay focused during the conversation.

"Thought they'd never leave," he mumbled, Cyrano nodded in agreement.

"Why, Nathan, we saw you gaping at the one with silver eyes," Morgan said with an evil grin aimed at her brother. Morgan had taken to the foreign girls right away and filled them in on things that she thought Cyrano had left out during some of their questions. Jonathan blushed trying to hide his face in an attempt to eat. He mumbled something incoherent as he talked into the food.

"What was that," Morgan asked.

"Nothing," he switched his attention back to Cyrano, "did you send a letter to Sirius?"

"Yeah, I did it before you woke up, wasn't able to get any sleep," Cyrano told him, "I told him everything and I'm sure Dumbledore is in contact with him too, so if I left anything out Dumbledore will likely fill it in." Cyrano was glad that both of his friends had believed he had not entered his name into the goblet. It seemed that a lot of people had not. Slytherins showed it out right, Ravenclaws acted coldly to him, and, even though they didn't say anything, Cyrano could feel their anger filled eyes of Hufflepuffs follow him out of the Great Hall. Cyrano hoped that things would settle down by the next day, but if anything things became worse.

Everywhere he went sneers and snide comments followed him. Soon he felt like jinxing everyone just for the hell of it, which was amazing because it took a lot to get on his nerves. By the time he made it to Care of Magical Creatures Class, he had had to physically restrain himself several times to keep from pull his wand out on someone.

Hagrid decided it was time to start walking the Skrewts and when he presented the idea to the class, several people groaned. Hagrid demonstrated how to get the leash around the middle of the Skrewts. After fifteen minutes havoc was taking pace in front of the gamekeepers hut. People were being dragged by as the Skrewts ran in random directions and others hid when they were threatened with a stinger or sucker. Fortunately, Hagrid wanted to talk to Cyrano, so he didn't have to participate.

"How you doing," Hagrid asked looking down at with beetle black eyes.

"Alright, I guess it was a bit shocking in the beginning, but I'll get used to it," Cyrano told him as Irwin was pulled by behind a Skrewt.

"Don' worry about the others to much Cyrano, they'll get over it as soon as the first task takes place," Hagrid said watching the commotion about him as though it was normal.

"I hope your right," Cyrano mumbled. The class finished and half of the students looked like they just had a mud fight. The Potions came around; Cyrano knew Snape was planning a hard time for him.

As soon as entered the dungeon he wished he hadn't, Snape had a small smile on his face, one that he knew it was going to be a difficult day. Snape made it clear that today was the day they would be testing their poisons. He didn't need to hint for him to know who he would try first.

During that class period they were to produce the antidote to their poison, if done correctly it would save them after administrated to them when they showed signs that the poison was working. Although he had a feeling Snape would hold out just before the poison did its worse.

"May I remind you how fatal it could be if you didn't finish the antidote by the end of the hour," he called out as he walked around the room, pretending to talk to the whole class; well he was really talking to Cyrano. Cyrano finished the antidote just ten minutes before the end of class; it was a miracle as to what happened next. The dungeon doors open and Magnus Wolf stuck his head in; he was a year younger than Cyrano.

"Professor," he addressed Snape, the teacher lifted his head to the new arrival.

"Yes," he sneered.

"Dumbledore has summoned Cyrano," Magnus said, having a hard time looking the Potions teacher.

"Very well, Odion cork you mixture and get out of my sight," Snape snapped, another good moment lost. Cyrano didn't need telling twice, he put the antidote into a vial, corked, and labeled it. In less than five minutes they were walking away from the dungeons.

"Thanks Magnus, a few more minutes in there and you might not have found me in a very good condition," Cyrano said thankful for the youths timing.

"Don't thank me, Dumbledore told me If I used his name Snape wouldn't give us a hard time," Magnus said with a waving gesture.

"I thank you again, none the less," Cyrano said, then asked, "do you know what the Dumbledore wants me for?"

"Oh, they want all the champions, something to do with Prophet or what not," Magnus replied, a few moments later the stood outside an empty class room besides the few people who mingled inside.

"Here we are," Magnus said.

"Thanks again."

"No problem," Magnus called out as he walked away. Cyrano opened the classroom door after a slight hesitation. Inside were several different people. First Cyrano spotted a blond hair woman that wore sparkly glasses and a man carried a camera next to her. Dumbledore stood talking with none other than Ollivander, the wand maker. Karkaroff and Maxime were in the back talking with Ludo Bagman. The other champions stood in the far corner conversing with one another, or at least Fleur and Cedric were, Krum was slouching in the back. Fleur and Cedric, having noticed Cyrano enter, both smiled at him. Krum gave him a nod of recognition.

"We zought you would never get 'ere," Fleur exclaimed, "was Snape giving you a 'ard time?" Fleur had learned his whole schedule when Morgan talked to her that morning at breakfast. Morgan filled in about teachers and their standing among the students. Fleur remembered Snape because she thought she would never want to run into him.

"Not as hard as he usual makes it," replied to her question. He had feeling that he was being watched, similar to the one he got when Moody watched him with his magical eye. He turned around to find the blond woman's eyes on him. She took this as an invitation, she stepped forward.

"I'm Rita Skeeter, I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet. I was just wondering if you had time for a couple of questions," normally Cyrano would have declined, but he was in a good mood from getting away from Snape, that didn't mean he wouldn't guard himself though.

"Yeah, I guess for a minute or so," Cyrano answered, he had seen a quick shake from Cedric's head, but it was too late. He found himself being pushed into a broom cupboard.

"Now, sit here well I get ready," she pushed him down on an overturned bucket. She pulled out a quill and crocodile skinned notebook. She placed the quill on an empty piece of paper, it scribbled something down quickly. She tore out the page and repeated the process. Once done she asked her first question.

"Now I already know your name," she told him, she grinned, "Cyrano Odion, Heir of Merlin."

"I would prefer if you left off that title," Cyrano frowned, "it often attracts unwanted attention."

"Like who ,"Rita Skeeter asked.

"Reporters" She obviously ignored the answer, but her quill was working fiercely.

"Now, why did you enter into the tournament," Rita asked.

"I think you have been misinformed, I didn't enter my name into the goblet, nor did I have anyone else do it," Cyrano giving her a firm and sold answer. It wasn't long, but it was sold enough that an argument could be brought up from it. She didn't say anything as the quill worked.

"Cyrano could you tell me, or more importantly, my readers, why do your eyes seemed to always be filled with a misty look? Is it some kind of spell to see in the dark, or is it something much deeper," Cyrano instantly knew this had been a bad idea; she only wanted the interested aspects of him to use in her stories. Cyrano decided then and there, he didn't like her.

"I don't feel it's any of your business what my eyes look like," he replied coldly, he was probably feeding her quill ideas every time he spoke.

"Could you tell use your biggest fear in compete—"Dumbledore's face appeared above them.

"Ah there you are Cyrano we are about to begin," his face turned to Rita Skeeter, "Good day Rita I hope you aren't twisting any words this young boy tells you?"

Rita Skeeter blushed, "Not at all, you know I right for the truth Albus."

"Yes, I 'am quite aware to how truthful you are," Dumbledore sighed, "if you two would come now we could get this over with." Cyrano was glad to have an excuse to get away from the woman. Fleur gave him a reassuring smile, he returned it with a smirk, but then realized Rita observed the exchange and had her quill out in seconds. Cyrano's attention went to the front of the room.

"May I introduce you to Mr. Ollivander," said Dumbledore, taking his pace at a table at the front, "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please," Mr. Ollivander asked stepping into the middle of the room where it was empty.

Fleur stepped forward and handed Ollivander her wand.

"Hmmm…"he said, he twirled the wand between his fingers, it emitted some sparks, "yes, nine and a half…inflexible….rosewood…and containing….dear me…"

"An 'air of from ze 'ead of a Veela," Fleur said, "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," said Ollivander, "yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands…however, to each his own, and if it suits you…"

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "_Orchideous_!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn. . . must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches. . . ash. . . pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition...You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning. Cyrano didn't need to look down to tell his and was beat up a little, a few scratches and smudges, but he didn't care it reflected the same things he had gone through the last few years.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."

Krum slouched forward and handed his wand to the waiting hand of Ollivander.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however. ."

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees...quite rigid...ten and a quarter inches..._Avis_!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves...Mr. Odion."

Cyrano got up and nodded to Krum as he passed by, Cyrano handed his wand over to Ollivander.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember." Cyrano remembered it as well.

"Yes, yes," Ollivander continued, "eleven and half inches…dragon heartstring…supple…oak. Do you remember where I told you told the very oak branch that supplied this wand came from?" His question was aimed at Cyrano.

"Yes sir, you told me that it came from the very branch of the oak that Merlin himself was entombed in," Cyrano said, "you also said that the person to have taken the branch was another Heir of Merlin, as we are the only ones who can find the tree. You told me that this very wand had the destiny to finally let Merlin out of his casket." Cyrano had supplied the story, being it true, in order for Rita Skeeter to have; he was still worried about when she had seen Fleur smile at him. He had never dealt with any reporters personally before, but he was smart enough to know what to do.

"Yes, indeed I did," Ollivander said still examining it. The examination of this wand took a bit longer. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Cyrano, announcing that the wand was in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly, who had been quiet through the proceedings, "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Eh…yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Cyrano. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

Getting photographs taken quite some time because Madame Maxime had to be seated in the middle or she would cast a shadow over everyone else. Then Rita Skeeter and the camera man couldn't decide who should go in front, Cyrano or Fleur. The camera man always moved Fleur to the front when Rita moved Cyrano to the front, and this continued on for minutes before they decided to seat Fleur in front of Maxime and stand Cyrano of to the side in front. Cedric stood right behind him, which Cyrano was thankful for because at least he wouldn't be the center of attention and Krum stood right behind Fleur. The other judges stood on either sides of Madame Maxime.

Finally after several more minutes of individual photographs they were allowed to go. Cyrano made his way down to dinner with Fleur, who automatically met up with her friends and started talking to Morgan when they reached the Gryffindor table. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen.

"Cy, you never told me that," Morgan's voice managed to reach his ears.

"What," he asked.

"You never told me about your wand and it's…destiny," Morgan whispered the last word.

"I never told you because it's never come up before," Cyrano said, turning back to his food, "besides it says the wands destiny is to open the oak tree, not me."

"But you're the owner of the wand, "exclaimed Morgan,

"Yeah, but that's not to say it may be passed down to a different generation," Cyrano pointed out. That's when he heard Jonathans voice calling him.

"Cy, Cy, Archimedes returned after you left and he brought back this," Jonathans held out a letter addressed to him when he reached him. Cyrano tore it open and read:

**_Cyrano_**_ -_

_I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?_

_I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. Be on the watch, Cy. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can._

**_Sirius_**

"Thanks, Jonathan," he put the letter away and gave Morgan, who was watching him, an ask-about-it-later look because Fleur and her friends were staring at him. Jonathan had remained standing, he never liked to sit down when Fleur and, more importantly, her friends where around, especially Christelle.

After dinner he went outside to find a clear place to practice spells before he couldn't. He had to watch the time because he could get carried away and he didn't want to be caught outside after dark. He had been focusing on learning the Pushing Force spell. It caused a large force to slam into whatever it was aimed at. It was good for catching things of guard with, usually used to knock over a large predator. He practiced a few other spells before he decided to call it quits.

Cyrano found Morgan and Jonathan waiting for him in the common room. He showed them the letter and decided he would answer Sirius right away. He went up to the dormitories, he found Archimedes sitting in his cage, he screeched when seeing his owner. Cyrano jotted down a quick assurence he'd be there and asked how he was before giving the letter to Archimedes, who took flight as soon as the piece of parchment was connected to his leg. Cyrano watched as the barn owl faded on the horizon and then he turned back inside, closing the window, he decided to get started on some schoolwork.

Author's Note: So, chapter done, and some interesting things you learned about Cyrano, not much, but a bit. In the next one Cyrano will have learned what the task is about and Rita Skeeter will publish her first story on him. Cyrano will talk to three important people in his life, Ignatius, Sirius, and the last one will be kept a secret until it happens. Cyrano will be the first to know and will tell the other three champions right away. Rate and comment, be nice this is only my second fanfic ever.


	6. Dragons and Merlin

Author's Note: Then there will be some conversation between Cyrano, Ignatius, Sirius and another person whose identity I will not reveal until then. This chapter could end up shorter than the others, but again this note is been written before the chapter so…

With the coming event of the first task Cyrano spent most of his time focused on learning spells. He spent hours in the library looking up simple spells that he could learn in hours if not minutes. So far he had acquired a small arsenal of spells that could be useful in future tasks.

It was within two weeks that some distant presence let itself be known. It crept up slowly and it was only lightly pressing against Cyrano's mind, but it was there. He couldn't place it, but he had felt it once before. However, when Cyrano tried to focus on it, it pulled back and escaped his mental grasp. He decided to not worry about it and focused even harder on getting ready.

Unfortunately, a few things cropped up in the two weeks following that distracted him for a time. The first one was an article out of the daily prophet, and possibly some other magical magazines. It was November 20, four days before the first task, when it was published into the Prophet; it was the same morning when Cyrano read it.

He was in the Great Hall eating breakfast, Fleur and her friends were talking with Morgan. Jonathan was doing his best to keep his eyes away from them. He was not in any mood to deal with anything that would disrupt his train of thought. It was then that owls filed into the Great Hall. Students were reaching up as mail was dropped into there waiting hands. Cyrano didn't bother to look up because he wasn't suspecting the copy of the Daily Prophet when that dropped on his head.

After looking up to make sure there wasn't some kind of bombardment ready to happen, he picked it up and looked at the front page. It was the article for the champions, written by Rita Skeeter. She took little time to get to talking about him. How he was young and handsome, she talked about the death of his parents. He ignored most of it. He saw that both Fleur and Krum were talked about as well, but Cedric hadn't even been mentioned. Despite that getting on his nerve, he saw a reference to page 4 and 7. On page 7 there was a tiny article about his wand, apparently it hadn't been a good enough story for a longer entry. That made him worry about what was on page 4. Cyrano turned to the page and found the same picture used for the front page article, but it was cut down and enlarged so it was focused on him and Fleur. His anger rose at the sight of the article.

Magic Fogs the Heirs Young Eyes

By Rita Skeeter

In my recent encounter with Cyrano Odion, Heir of Merlin and Hogwarts Champion in the Triwizard Tournament, I couldn't help but notice that the young man's eyes seemed to be clouded. Not wanting to jump to conclusions I asked some experts in physical magic.

"_From the described effects, he could likely be under the Imperius Curse_," one expert stated.

"_He may have some physical form that he hides. Pent up magic from physical transformation will, in some mixed blood citizens, try to escape through some other means_," Another stated.

I find both these theories highly unlikely as he has been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the protection of Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts. And Mr. Odion has, as my resources informed me, never transformed into anything within the years he's lived in the magical community. So I focused my site on inside factors. I found one object that could have such means to affect the young wizard in such a way. The young French witch, Miss Fleur Delacour, who also is quarter Veela.

As you know Veela are creatures of magic and beauty. They use their powers to cause men to fall powerless before them.

At the Weighing of the Wands when I, Rita Skeeter reporter of the Daily Prophet, was present, I notice some exchanges between the two. I also had a chance for a few words before the weighing began, when I made reference to his eyes, he avoided to answer my question.

My head started filling with questions. Is the Heir of Merlin under the influence of Veela allure? And if so, why has Miss Delacour put the young man under her power? One can only hope that I am wrong, though I hardly ever am. I press for Headmaster Dumbledore to look into the matter of his pupil.

Cyrano read it over a couple more times, amazed at the lies Rita Skeeter could make up. He really had no idea to react. Though, apparently, his face was reacting to it because a voice interrupted his reading.

"What is eet Cyrano," it was Fleur. He looked up and found that both Morgan and Jonathan were looking at him, as well as Fleur, Christelle, and Veronique. He looked down at the paper again and then handed it to Fleur.

"Here, page 4, it concerns you as well."

Fleur took the paper and flipped it to the right page. As she read he could see her own anger shadow her face. It wasn't that Rita had made him look weak that made him angry, it was that she had used Fleur as a piece to create a story she wasn't getting from him. Fleur looked up from the paper handing it to her friends, who eagerly started reading the article.

"Why would she write such lies?" She might have asked about why his eyes really were the way they were if he hadn't made her and her friends promise a week before hand not to ask the question again, unless it came up being important. He highly doubted it ever would.

"Why do you think," Cyrano asked rhetorically before answering, "I assume she didn't like the fact that she didn't get a story from me. So she went and found one, I'm sorry, made one to write about."

"Zis is going to be 'ard to deal with. Excuse me, but I must go write to my parents," Fleur said standing up, "or I will get a very angry letter from zem scolding me for such behavior." She left them, Veronique and Christelle stayed to talk with Morgan. Jonathan decided to talk to Cyrano about it.

"Listen, Nathan, I know she's only trying to get me mad. She'll jump me the next time she has the chance and I'll spout off something I'll regret and she'll make my life miserable," Cyrano said interrupting him before he had a chance to speak, "but it's not going to work, I mean, have you ever seen me get upset by something less than an insult to my parents?"

"No," Jonathan said with a sigh.

"Then I have nothing to worry about," Cyrano said turning back to his food, "except for the unknown enemy of the first task."

The days before his meeting with Sirius were agonizingly long, filled with many snide comments from the Slytherins. Apparently the article had taken big, of course, Cyrano shouldn't have been surprised.

He could hardly go anywhere without the article being mentioned. The most painful class to bear during this time was Potions. Snape, who acted worse since the day of the wand weighing, liked to ask if his mind was effected by, as he put it, 'the French influence'.

Cyrano ignored them as best as he could, though he had made a slight mistake when Snape had made a particularly insulting comment about Fleur. Despite her being a competitor in the tournament, Cyrano thought Fleur as a friend. There were other such comments like this by other students and Cyrano had had a hard time not firing back his own comments. Fleur was not going to suffer by the article that was aimed at him.

It was at lunch on the 21st when he snapped. Fortunately, for Cyrano, it was Nicodemus who made the comment, what he did was something he had been waiting to do to the Slytherin brat since nearly the moment he met him.

Cyrano had just walked into the Great Hall; he was in no mood for any more comment. He heard his name and turned to see Nicodemus striding towards him.

"What do you want Sandon," Cyrano spat making himself sound as dangerous as possible.

"Where's your owner," Sandon asked, "thought you were too weak to go anywhere without her?"

Cyrano let his anger show on his face, but only long enough to act as a warning.

"Lay of Sandon," Cyrano warned with the same anger in his face, "the article was aimed at me; Miss Delacour was just a tool Skeeter used."

"I don't know, been acting chummy with her since she arrived," Nicodemus was taking evident joy in successfully getting a response out of him.

"Yes, we have been nice with each other, but you know she couldn't affect me with her allure if Moody can't make me act like the chipmunk he made you act like," Cyrano retorted. He saw the rage in his enemy's eyes. Sandon had done all he could to persuade people it had been an imitation of a quidditch move, though obviously no one had believed him.

"Watch what you say Odion, I can get very scary when angry," Cyrano let out a snort of laughter.

"Sandon, I wouldn't be scared of you if you had the face of Voldemort," Cyrano said, turning away. Gasps escaped the students who had heard the remark. Sandon had been shocked by the comment, but snapped back with something that angered Cyrano greatly.

"That's right walk away, go back to the half-breed wh—"

Sandon never finished his comment, though, Cyrano didn't need it to be finished to piece together what he was about to say. He had been interrupted by Cyrano's fist which met with the Slytherins mouth. Nicodemus fell backwards holding his face, he had been quite surprised by the muggle form of aggression.

"ODION," Snape's voice echoed across the Hall, Cyrano didn't turn to watch the Potions teacher approach him. He kept his eyes on Sandon, daring him to say another word.

"Yes, professor," Cyrano asked, he kept his eyes drilling into the boy still holding his mouth.

"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor for the use of muggle styled fighting and detention with me," Snape said with a cold voice, "and this time Dumbledore cannot pull you out of it. You will receive and owl for the time and date."

Snape turned to Sandon to inspect him well Cyrano walked the rest of the way to the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Fleur had been talking with Morgan at the Gryffindor table to watch the whole commotion between Cyrano and the boy. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but knew it must have really angered Cyrano because he punched the boy square in the mouth.

Then the greasy haired teacher, Snape, had walked over. Fleur could tell from his face that he had been waiting a long time to catch the Gryffindor doing something out of line. Cyrano walked over, despite what just happened, he had a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Why are you smirking like zat," she asked as he sat down.

"I've been waiting a long time to punch Sandon," Cyrano said with obvious pleasure, "he didn't expect that coming."

"What did he say zat made you do zat," Fleur asked, his smirk fell from his face.

"It's what you would have said if I hadn't interrupted him," he fell silent for a second, "he tried to insult you, but I couldn't let him, not my friend."

Fleur smiled. She liked that he thought of her as a friend despite the fact that they would be competing against each other. She had been getting nasty comments the past day and a half because of the article. Most of the time she wasn't around to hear them, but when she was up in the castle they followed her everywhere.

"Zank you for protecting my 'onor," Fleur said before turning back to Morgan. They had been talking about their school terms.

"So how many years do you go to Beauxbatons," Morgan asked.

"Eet is different zen 'Ogwarts. Instead of seven years we attend Beauxbatons for eight years," Fleur told her, "we zink seven is too few years, but I do not criticize your school in your ways."

"That's alright," Morgan said taking a bite of her lunch, "though I'm quite thankful for it, eight years would be one to many for me."

When lunch finished Fleur left for her classes, they weren't all that exciting sense there was only twenty of students. After they finished she went to her room to study some spells that might prove useful in the coming task. She found that her owl, Bruno, was sitting on her pillow. Attached to his leg was a letter, most likely a response from her parents.

She crossed the room and detached the letter from the owl's leg then she sat down and opened it. She found that it was her father's hand writing.

**_Fleur_**

_We were happy to receive your letter; your Mother was having a hard time processing the article. We would never truly believe that you would do such a thing, but there are times when people can be wrong. However, your letter has reassured us._

_I'd also like to ask you about the young man Cyrano Odion, you explained that you have become friends within the last few weeks. Gabrielle has been running up and down walls with jealousy of you. But I must ask, what do you know of him? I have heard rumors of things he has done, but I have no way of actually knowing their truths. I also wonder why he has been able to resist your allure, I'm thankful for it though; from what I hear he has never had any mental training of the sort to resist such magic. You also mentioned, as did the article, that his eyes were not normal. I have my suspicions to why they may be like that, but whatever you can provide would be helpful. His stories interest me just as much as they do the rest of the magical world._

**_You Father,_**

**_Alan Delacour._**

Fleur smiled, her father was always curious about something. She would have to right a response back. She got some parchment and picked up a quill and inkwell. Her response provided her father, and no doubt would be passed down to her sister, with all the information she had gained from Morgan. One thing that she added that her father had not asked about, probably because he didn't know about it was Cyrano's hand. She had always wandered to what was under the bandage, but not even Morgan would tell her what it was. She thought maybe her father had an idea so she asked about it in her letter.

* * *

It was the day that Cyrano was to talk with Sirius, but it seemed to take forever without classes. Since it was a Saturday he would likely go to the library and look up more spells. However, it seemed that his friends had other ideas and dragged him out to Hogsmeade for the day. And as it seemed foreigners got free reign of where they could go, Fleur and her friends accompanied them. Cyrano felt uncomfortable out in the open, the looming presence seemed to follow as they made their way down to the small town.

They wandered around aimlessly for the better part of twenty minutes before they went into Honey Dukes. Fleur and her friends seemed to be interested in all the strange candies, though harry assumed the French magical world had its own strange candy. When they got tired there they headed to the Three Broomsticks for a drink of butterbeer.

Inside was packed full, but they managed to get a seat in the back after ordering. Once they reached their seat, they started a small conversation on the first task.

"So, what do you zink zey'll 'ave you do," Christelle asked Cyrano and Fleur. Both of them felt uncomfortable with the conversation as they would be going against each other, but Cyrano saw no real harm in talking about what they may need to do, as long as it didn't go into what he was going to do.

"From what I know and from talking with a friend, will probably have to fight some creature. Whether we have to kill it or not is a different question though, and I don't have an answer for it," Cyrano shrugged taking a drink of butterbeer.

"It would be cruel to 'ave to kill something, especially sense I've never killed anything in my life," Fleur exclaimed with a shudder.

"Wish I could say the same," muttered Cyrano, though he never regretted killing the things that always tried to kill him first. He glanced around the room, his eyes fell on Hagrid and Moody who were sitting at the bar enjoying some drinks. Deciding it was time for a change of subject, he shepherded the conversation in their direction.

"I never knew Hagrid liked Moody," Cyrano said pointing to the two teachers.

"Why, it's not like Hagrid would have any reason to be scared around an ex-Auror," Jonathan said with a smirk, his eyes always focused on some other object in the room, other than the silver eyes that were sitting across from him.

"Yeah, well considering that last few years you'd think he'd at least be fidgety," Cyrano said. He watched as Moody leaned over and said something to Hagrid. The two got up and made their way to the group in the back.

"How's your day Odion," Moody growled, it was friendly growl.

"Okay so far, how you doing Hagrid," Cyrano asked.

"Alrigh', uh…. Cyrano could I speak to yeh outside for a sec," Hagrid asked, his eyes glancing at Fleur for a second.

"Yeah, sure," Cyrano said a little confused. He got up and followed Moody and Hagrid to the door. When they were outside, Moody continued his journey, obviously knowing whatever Hagrid wanted to say, he wanted to say to Cyrano without another person's presence.

"What is it Hagrid," Cyrano asked, turning to the giant man. He realized the presence that was pressing on his mind became more familiar when his friend had appeared.

"Would you meet me at my cabin tonigh' at midnigh'," Hagrid glanced around for a second, then leaned over and whispered, "it has to do with the firs' task."

Cyrano was about to tell Hagrid that he wasn't supposed to be accepting any help from teachers when the full weight of the presence came down on him. Know he knew what the first task was. He remembered where he had felt the presence before, three years beforehand at Hagrid's cabin.

"Dragons," he whispered. He looked up at Hagrid who was looking at him amazed.

"But, how'd yeh know, I didn' think anyone knew, I only figured out yesterday," Hagrid said.

"No time to explain Hagrid got to go," Cyrano said hurriedly he rushed back into the Three Broomsticks. When he reached the table he told the group what he had just learned.

"Dragons," Fleur said with a hushed voice. Cyrano was looking at his friends they also looked worried. Cyrano wasn't feeling anywhere close to worried, he felt excited. He had already to plans worked up in his mind; the first was what he was going to try, the second he would do only if it came down to it.

"Listen, lets head back up to the castle, I have to tell Cedric," Cyrano said standing up, "and I'm going to see if I can find a way to tell Krum. Plus there are some things I must do."

They all agreed to head back up to Hogwarts. Once he was in the castle he located Cedric and told him what he learned.

"Are you sure, I mean you actually saw them," Cedric asked. This was something Cyrano had been hoping to avoid.

"Well, no, but when Hagrid offered it to show me, I saw the look on his face and I've only seen that look once before. It was when he was caring for the Norwegian Ridgeback, Norbert," it apparently was a good enough story for Cedric because he sighed and looked like he was ready to puke.

"Thanks Cy," he said and turned to walk away.

"No problem," Cyrano called out.

Then he made his way to the library where he studied stunning spells, knowing that they were the most effective against a dragon. He stayed late, but sooner or later Madame Pince kicked him out and he went up to the Astronomy Tower to talk with Ignatius.

"Hm, dragons," Ignatius said as he watched the moon rise into the sky, "it's going to be tough."

"I have a plan, "Cyrano said, then hesitate before he said, "I also….have a backup plan."

"You wouldn't dare show yourself in public," Ignatius asked concerned, "I don't know if the order they had back in the Roman Empire still holds true, but you could possibly be killed on site."

"Of course I wasn't going to show myself," Cyrano exclaimed , "but I would flash my form quick enough for the dragon to notice, a human's I wouldn't catch it."

"No, they wouldn't, but it's still a risky move," Ignatius said lost in thought," what's your first plan?"

"A few stunning spells and quick reflexes," Cyrano told the dragon.

"That will work if you're sure your fast enough," Ignatius said studying the young wizard. In truth Cyrano didn't know if he was quick enough, he also didn't know what he needed to do exactly yet.

For some time the two friends went over the spells he had learned and picked out the most useful, Ignatius told him to train with them the next day. When it was time for Cyrano to meet Sirius, he left the Astronomy Tower checking the Marauders map every so often.

When he arrived at the Gryffindor common room it was empty, Jonathan had told him not to worry, that he and Morgan would take care of it. He sat in the comfy armchair right in front of the fire as he waited for Sirius. He closed his eyes and sighed, he was not feeling to good with all that was happening.

"I don't think I ever looked that bad, even in my years at Azkaban."

Cyrano's eyes flew open and saw that his godfather's head was sitting in the common room fire. Sirius had changed since the last time the saw each other. When they had said goodbye, Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair - but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Cyrano had of him, which had been taken at Cyrano's parent's wedding.

"Yeah, trust me you looked worse," Cyrano retorted, but in a joking manner.

"It's good to see you too Cy," Sirius said, "Now, tell me how you've been."

"Well, besides becoming a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, having a reporter spin lies about you and another champion, and just figuring out that the first task of the tournament has do deal with dragons, I'm pretty good."

"Dragons we can deal with, Cy, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here. . . I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about," Sirius said, he's eyes were full of concern.

"What other things do I need to be worrying about," Cyrano questioned.

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Cy, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yeah, Mr. Blaxton told me after the night at the World Cup," Cyrano, "but how come he isn't in Azkaban."

"He was, for a while at least, "Sirius told him, "That's probably why Dumbledore wanted Moody around so he could keep an eye on Karkaroff."

"I'm almost afraid to ask why he was released," Cyrano said.

"He made a deal with the Ministry, some names for his release," Sirius said, "he wasn't very popular in there after that. Since then he took over Durmstrang, teaches the Dark Arts to the lot."

"Are you suggesting that Karkaroff put my name in the goblet," Cyrano asked, he found it very unlikely because of the way the foreign headmaster had acted when his name came out of the goblet.

"It's a possibility; he did convince the Ministry to set him free, didn't he?"

"But what would Karkaroff have on me, except for the fact that I defeated his master."

Sirius hesitated.

"I've been nearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark.. . and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Cyrano.

"Exactly. . . she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last. . . and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but. . . it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Cyrano.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Cyrano. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So Voldemort may have found out about the tournament?" said Cyrano his mood turned grim.

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like we know why my name ended up in the goblet," said Cyrano grinning bleakly. "But I'm telling you I won't go down without a fight."

"Right - these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Cy. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -"

"Damn," Cyrano exclaimed

"What you already started planning," said Sirius. "well if you can find a way to defeat it with stunning spells, I'll be amazed. There are some-" Sirius stopped talking and half turned his head.

"What is it," Cyrano asked.

"Shit, I think the family's home, sorry Cyrano got to go," with that Sirius's head disappeared from the fire.

Cyrano sat back with slight concern for Sirius, but worried more on the first task. Sirius just told him stunning spells would be next to useless. _Oh, well, I'll just to make do with what I have_, Cyrano thought. He realized how late it and went up to bed, laying down in the silence. His mind wandered for some time before he drifted off into sleep.

When he woke up he found he was surrounded by trees. _That's odd, I don't remember going anywhere_, Cyrano thought. He sat up and looked around, he had seen this place before. He had sworn he had dreamed…

Dammit, not one of these again," Cyrano exclaimed standing up, "I hate it when you pull me into one of you dream realities." An old man stepped out from behind a tree, he burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry I couldn't resist," the old man said through hysterical chuckles, "besides you went to sleep before I could form." Cyrano stepped forward and gave the old man a hug. He was wearing brown robes, quite simple really. His white beard and hair flowed from their roots on his head. He held a walking staff that looked gnarled from years of use.

"It's good to see that my heir is making a name," Merlin said, looking at the wizard who was near 1500 years younger than him.

"I'm not trying to make a name, it just sort of happens to me," Cyrano said, irritated, "so are you going to tell me why you're here."

The greatest of wizards looked down at the young wizard and burst out laughing once more. Cyrano frowned.

"What are you seeing," Cyrano asked as the old man wiped tears away from his eyes.

"Oh, nothing you can't learn until you meet it in life," Merlin told him. If you want to know why the old wizard keeps laughing, it's because of what he sees. The future. Merlin was known to laugh when he predicted events, even laughed when he foretold his own demise, "anyway I wanted to see you before the first task of this tournament took place."

"Well, thanks," Cyrano said still a little confused.

"Also to tell you not to do anything stupid, I stand at friendship with the dragons and I don't need it messed up by one of my descendants," Cyrano smirked at that.

"Don't worry I've got a plan."

So I've heard," Merlin said, then he actually turned serious, "There is also something I must tell you, please sit."

The roots of a nearby tree, reformed themselves to make a wooden bench, both Merlin and Cyrano sat down.

"What is it you need to tell me," Cyrano asked, he was always nervous when he was with his ancestor. He never knew if his role in the world would help with the family's reputation.

"Events are going to unfold that will ultimately change the Wizardry world," Merlin explained, staring at some future event Cyrano couldn't see, "I cannot tell you what will happen, but I can tell you that there will be hard times for you." Cyrano's heart sunk, Merlin only got serious when grave this were going to take place.

"But," Merlin started with a new smile," you will pull off some remarkable feats through those times. However, the future is always changing; you may never survive to do those."

"Thanks for those words of confidents," Cyrano said sarcastically.

"No problem, I just don't want you getting a big head and all that," Merlin said with a big grin.

"Merlin, I have one question," Cyrano said.

"And what is that?"

"How come you don't just free yourself from the oak tree?" Merlin sighed.

"Because my magic is powerless in here," Merlin said referencing to the fact that his body was still in the tree, "only the one who trapped me in here can free me and she has long since died. But, that's what she thought, see she never knew I had children she had no idea that my blood survived. Know only an heir can free me from this place, that heir is you."

Cyrano sighed, "Not that I wouldn't free you, but why me?"

"Why not you," Merlin exclaimed, "because it just happened to be you who holds the wand that is the key to my cage."

"Thanks again for those praising words," Cyrano said.

"Don't mention it," Merlin said with innocents, "now it's time for you to go, I forgot how fast time passes when you're in a world between all worlds."

They got up from the bench which automatically started sinking back into the ground, roots un twirling themselves. Cyrano gave another huge to his ancestor and stepped away.

"Oh, one more thing," Merlin said before the world disappeared into darkness, "Morgue, or Morgan, or whatever you people call her know a days, has her own heir among the people who know reside at Hogwarts, watch your back."

And with that the world fell into darkness before the bright lights of a Sunday morning shown in his eyes.

Author's Note: So there you have it people, Merlin finally shows his face after so many years. Now I know what you're thinking, didn't Merlin die? Yes Merlin died, but for all tense and purposes I changed how it happened. For those who know the story Vivien, or the Lady of the Lake, or sometimes even Nimue, seduced Merlin into giving his secrets on how to bind a person to the earth. When he did so she formed a large oak around him. It is said for a time afterwards that his voice could be heard, but it soon disappeared. In my version that all happened, but not only did it trap his body in the earth, but also his soul. So Merlin is nearly 1500 years old give or take a few years from the time he was supposed to have lived during 400's A.D. Now every time an heir would come around Merlin would wake to guide them in life.


	7. Task One

Author's Note: Now Cyrano must decide, whether he will reveal himself on the price of possible death. It will not be revealed to what he is, or partly is, until he faces of old Voldy.

He shared the conversation he had with Sirius with both of the twins; they weren't very surprised to learn that Karkaroff was a Death Eater.

"He has the attitude," Jonathan had said. He left out talk he had with Merlin, he thought it was something that was only meant for him. But the rest of the time after that was focused mainly on the first task.

The day before the task went quicker than the two weeks coming before it. He still thought it early morning when he reached the Gryffindor table for lunch. He had asked Morgan and Jonathan to stay away from him well he worked on some more spells. He added some transfiguration spells that may help transforming a rock into something appetizing for the dragon. He also learned a few hexes that could prove useful.

He was in the library mostly for that reason; he was also there because he didn't want to have to face other people who had comments for him that he didn't want to hear. It seemed that people encouraged you with rather disturbing remarks, ones that even caused Cyrano to worry.

It was late before he decided to leave the library; Madame Pince threatened to send her books after him. Along the way to the Gryffindor common room, Cyrano stopped and would talk with a portrait before starting off again only to stop to talk with another portrait. Then about three-fourths of the way to his destinations Peeves was blocking a corridor well he strewn pieces of armor across it. When he finally did reach the common room it was coming on early morning.

As he lay in bed thinking about the first task, he couldn't help but feel a bit of joy. From what Merlin had said he would at least survive the encounter with the dragon. But then again Merlin had also said the future was always changing. However, that still didn't change that there was still a hopeful future. He did finally fall to sleep.

It was early morning when he woke up and despite how late he went to sleep he felt wide awake. He through on his clothes that he knew he would change once down wherever they were going for the task. He went down to the Great Hall which he found empty except for a few ghosts, there wasnt even any food on the tables. When his friends had joined him he had already eaten and was staring blankly of into the distant.

Jonathan and Morgan avoided eye contact with him, which he found find, he didn't need to end up thinking about if he would ever see their green eyes again. Students were walking around chatting and laughing. Some even came up and wished him luck, well shouts from the Slytherin table were bent on beating him down. Cyrano didn't listen to anyone he just sat there and thought over his plan.

Soon he had to go to classes which weren't quite as enjoyable, except for potions as it was always un-enjoyable. When he was done with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Moody gave him a reassuring grin, he went down to the Great Hall to have lunch. In that time the whole Gryffindor quidditch team came to wish him it was Rose's turn she gave him a hug, which was slightly strange for him as he always avoided physical contact with others. He made an effort to eat something, but truthfully he wasn't hungry. He was thankful when McGonagall entered the Great Hall, it gave him an excuse to stop forcing himself to eat.

"Odion, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now... You have to get ready for your first task."

"Let's go," said Cyrano, standing up.

"We'll be there to deflate your head afterwards," Jonathan called after him.

"I'll hold it to you," Cyrano called back, looking back at his best friends as he exited the Great Hall. McGonagall acted like she was about to do the task herself. All the way down to the enclosure where the task would take place she wouldn't stop talking. Cyrano found it quite amusing.

"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head. . . . We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. . . . The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. . . . Are you all right?"

"I'm quite alright Professor," Cyrano said to reassure her just as much as to reassure himself

She was leading him toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Cyrano saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "And wait for your turn, Odion. Mr. Bagman is in there... he'll be telling you the... the procedure... Good luck."

"See you later professor," said Cyrano, though he suddenly had a though that he may never see her again. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Cyrano swallowed hard before entering.

Fleur was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Cyrano supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Cyrano entered, Cedric and Fleur gave him small smiles, which Cyrano returned to the best of his ability,as he only reserved smiles for his close friends. Krum gave him a nod, which Cyrano also returned.

"Cy! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly.

"When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them, "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different... er, varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too... ah, yes... your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Cyrano gave an inward sigh. Well at least know Merlin's reputation with the dragons will hold, Cyrano though. He glanced at the other champions. Cedric had nodded once to show that he understood, Fleur glanced at Cyrano and gave another small smile, and Krum didn't react at all, at least outwardly.

It wasn't long before hundreds of feet could be heard passing by. They had no care in the world well the four champions were about to face a dangerous opponent. Bagman held the purple bag.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh recognized it from his studying in the library. It had the number two around its neck. Bagman then held the bag out to Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. Another dragon he recognized. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. It was remarkable at how many dragons Cyrano knew. Cyrano was afraid to know what was left. He reached his had in the bag and grasped a small wriggling form. He pulled his hand out, which was balled up to hide the dragon he received. When he opened his hand he was staring at a black dragon with horns covering its upper back, neck, and head. Horns also were equipped to its tail, giving it its name. The Hungarian Horntail. Cyrano's heart leapt, but not for joy. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman.

"You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now...Cyrano... could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"Yeah," Cyrano said wondering what the wizard could want. When he excited the tent, Bagman motioned for him to walk with him. He led them to a patch of trees then he turned to Cyrano.

"Feeling all right, Cy? Anything I can get you?"

"I feel fine," said Cyrano. "And no I don't need anything at the moment."

"Got a plan?" said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, "you're the underdog here, Cyrano... Anything I can do to help..."

"No, I've had a plan worked out for a while," said Cyrano, know he knew what Bagman wanted, "I think I'll be fine, but thanks."

"Nobody would know, Cy," said Bagman, winking at him.

"No, I'll be alright," said Cyrano, getting irritated by the fact that Bagman couldn't talk a hint, "like I said before I've got a plan-"

A whistle had blown somewhere.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.

Cyrano walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, very paler. Cyrano tried to say something reassuring, but he couldn't find his voice to speak.

* * *

Cedric passed by Cyrano as he exited the tent; it looked like he tried to say something, but couldn't get the words out. So instead, he gave a slight nod. Cedric returned it. He stepped into the dragon enclosure. He heard his name being cheered, but he wasn't focused on them. No, his mind was focused on the blueish-grey dragon crouched at the far end of the ring.

He stepped down off the rock he was standing on and crept slowly towards the dragon keeping an eye on it. It seemed not to have noticed him yet, but Cedric knew that wouldn't be like that for long. He moved slowly around the dragon trying to see if he could spot the golden egg. His foot bumped a rock causing it to clatter across the ground. Cedric froze for a second as the Dragons head swiveled around. It spotted him and immediately got to its feet, hissing lightly. Cedric moved a little closer trying to get it angry enough to attack. It worked.

It pounced on him much the same as a cat would a rodent. he dove out of the way before it's talons landed on him. He spun around to meet the dragon and fired a stunning spell. It hit the dragons leg, but had little effect except for making the dragon screech in anger. He could hear Bagman say something, but he wasn't letting the wizard's words distract him. It was just him and the dragon.

His next move was to fire a splintering spell at the ground before the dragon's feet, causing rock shards to fly in the lizards face. In the time it was blinded he scrambled across the stones to be the eggs were. He thought he caught a glimpse of gold before a roar rang out and he dived away before a claw could catch him. He landed behind a boulder as a jet of flames enveloped the spot he had just been, his breaths were coming out in gasps. It would be easier if I had some creature to distract him with, thought Cedric.

At that moment Cedric remembered what they had just gone over in Transfiguration class. Cedric found a big enough rock to work out what he had planned he aimed his wand at the rock and spoke the words he wanted. The stone morphed into a Labrador. The dog was automatically frightened having sensed the dragon nearby. It took off across the rock strewn enclosure. The dragon caught a glimpse of the movement and instantly went after it.

Cedric seeing the dragon going after the dog; ran out from behind the rock and went for the place he thought he had seen gold. He clambered up the side of the rock face and saw the eggs and the golden one nestled in with the real ones. He went for the egg and in seconds had his arms around it. He heard the starts of cheers before they turned into horrified gasps. Cedric hadn't realized the dragon had lost interest into the dog and turned its attention back to its eggs. His face half turned before flames licked the side of his head.

He fell to the ground in pain thinking this was the last thing he would see in life, but soon he felt himself being pulled out of the dragon enclosure.

* * *

Fleur heard Bagman's commentary through the whole thing.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"... "He's taking risks, this one!"... "Clever move... pity it didn't work!"

She heard the collective gasps every time before Bagman said one of those things. She could only imagine what was happening out there, though she didn't want to. Soon she heard a loud cheering, followed by more gasps. Then:

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

They weren't shouted out, so Fleur could only assume the judges were holding up the scores. Cedric had taken at least fifteen minutes

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur got up and started to head for the exit, but something caught her hand. It was Cyrano's own hand. Fleur looked at Cyrano who gave her a small smile. Fleur's heart rate jumped for a second, but it wasn't because she was about to go up against a dragon. She stared into his eyes for a few seconds longer before turning around and finishing the journey to the tents opening. Fleur had seen the same thing in Cyrano's eyes, the thing she couldn't quite place it to be.

She stepped into the arena and saw the Welsh Green; its eyes were already locked onto Fleur's.

Fleur stepped the rest of the way into the pit and moved closer to the green dragon. As she got closer, the dragon sat up with alarm and hissed at her. Fleur froze and for nearly a minute her and the dragon locked eyes. Then without warning it lunged for her, Fleur was nearly mauled by its talons. For the next five minutes she ran around sending spells at the dragon that chased after her trying its best to get its claws on the pest.

Fleur ducked behind a rock when flames were sent at her. She immediately jumped from behind the rock and went on running, then an idea came to her, she whipped around and sent a sleeping spell at the dragon. The Welsh green stopped near the eggs with a dazed look on its face. Fleur wasn't sure how long it would hold so she moved slowly, not wanting to be taken by surprise if the spell wore off.

She reached the eggs and spotted the golden egg. She reached forward and picked it up just as a snort escaped the sleeping dragon. Flames flew out and grasped her skirt. She quickly doused it with water before getting out of the way. Cheers and applause went up as the audience saw her with the golden egg.

She went over to the nursing tents as the pulled her dragon out of the pit and added a red looking one in it.

* * *

Viktor listened to the crowd as he waited an agonizing ten minutes well the Fleur fought against her dragon. Gasps and screams rang out and he listened to the retired quidditch player, Bagman, talk through the whole thing.

"Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh. . . nearly! Careful now . . . good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Soon he heard loud cheering signifying she had gotten her egg, it had taken her around ten minutes. Well they gave her score; Krum looked over at the youngest champion. He was amazed by the young man, he wasn't looking too scared. In fact, Krum thought he looked sort of excited.

Then a third whistle broke the silence.

"And here comes Mr. Krum," Viktor got up and crossed the room. He looked once more at the young wizard, both their eyes met and they understood each other. The tournament meant nothing until it was over, until then it was things they did not want to do. He exited the tent and walked to the entrance to the enclosure, the red dragon that he was going to face was busy focusing on its eggs.

He started towards the dragon trying to look confident, but he thought he might throw up. When he got nearer to the dragon, it sensed him and rushed at him. he had not been suspected the move and was thankful for the fact the dragon used its tail to send him halfway across the pit.

He hit the ground hard; the air was knocked out of him. After several seconds of rolling around, he regained his footing. This time he took a more foolish approach, he rushed the dragon. he ducked when a talon swept out to hit him . He swung around and sent a stinging spell in the direction he just came from. The dragon roared with frustration. It turned to him with fury in its eyes. Krum started circling around the Chinese Fireball. The dragon kept his eyes on the champion the whole time. Krum flinched forward trying to get the dragon to react, it did. A flaming ball was sent in his direction, he put it out with water from his wand before it even reached him.

Krum sent a stunning spell right into the dragon's eyes. It reacted quite well, for Krum. The dragon reared and threw its weight around in every direction, it emitted a horrible shriek. Krum started getting closer, he avoided being crushed by a talon. At one point he heard the sound of crunching. He reached where the golden egg was being stashed and found that half of the dragon eggs had been crushed. He waded through the slim of the crushed eggs and pulled the golden egg out of the goo and walked to the side of the arena.

He watched from the tent he was brought to, as his dragon was taken away and another one was brought in. Viktor Krum probably would never admit it, but he felt sorry for the youngest champion at that moment.

* * *

Cyrano hadn't had a clue to why he had grabbed Fleur's hand, but something ran through his mind and he just acted on impulse. At that moment he wished he still had hold of her hand. He listened well Krum worked his way to his golden egg; it had taken a little less then Fleur.

Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Cyrano heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing... and... yes, he's got the egg!"

Screaming and applause followed those words. Cyrano's heart leapt, it was the moment of truth. He stood to find that his legs were really shaky. A fourth and final whistle rang out through the air.

He left the tent and walked over to the enclosure and stepped into the entrance to see a full sized Hungarian Horntail tending to its eggs, he caught a glimpse of gold. There was cheering going on around him and Bagman was yelling something, but Cyrano blocked those out as he focused on the dragon before him.

The dragon slowly turned its head and centered its gaze in on him. He noted that the Horntail's gaze was minimized by the bulk of horns on its head. He strode forward keeping his eyes locked to the Horntail's. The presence of the dragon bared down on him fully know, it was the only thing he was aware of. He raised his wand and threw a spell at a rock near it, he was trying to get aggravate it. He threw another spell on the other side of the dragon making it shriek loudly. It dashed at him and Cyrano was only dimly aware of the Horntail's talons swiping at him before he ducked out of the way.

He got behind it and sent a stinging spell into the back of the dragon. It reared up on its hind legs and took a step backwards or to. That was when Cyrano sent the Pushing Force Spell into the hind legs of the dragon. Of course, Cyrano hadn't taken into account that the dragons horned back was facing towards him and that the dragon was looming over him. Cyrano realized at the last second that he was about to be impaled by lots of horns. He managed to roll out of the way as the dragon fell on its back with a loud crunch.

Cyrano looked around for a second dazed and then managed to see that the dragon was flailing around on its back. He got up and saw that the eggs were undefended. Cyrano started to sprint towards them. Then an unexpected object slammed into him sending him into the air. The Horntails tail had caught him on his right shoulder.

All he registered was pain, lots of it. He was in so much pain he didn't even realizing he hit the ground. He let out a strangled cry and thrashed around on the ground. He reached up and touched his shoulder, sending more pain through his hand. He tried to bend his neck to see the damage, but also found that sent pain through him. He estimated he had been punctured by at least four horns, all in his shoulder except for one, which may have hit his lower neck. He was now dimly aware of the screams from the crowd. Through the blinding pain he looked up and saw the Horntail had regained its feet and was heading right for him.

He instantly went to his second plan; he mustered up enough strength to change his form for about a millisecond. It would be too fast for human eyes to register, but a dragon would be able to sense the change, they would also recognize what he was and wouldn't attack unless they thought he was a threat. The quick transformation had given him a bit of strength to let him do what he needed to. He knew he was about to surprise everyone.

He raised his wand to his throat and rasped, "_**Sonoures**_."

The last bit of the spell echoing out over the crowd, the dragon was still, slowly, advancing towards him because of the flash of his form. He hesitated for a second, but his fear quickly passed.

"_**Pok! Tir ti levnim ve, si mi wer Heir di Merlinus, Thurirl di Darastrixi**_," rasped Cyrano, he had only ever spoke in the ancient language of the Dragon Keepers once before. It was back in his second year when he went against the basilisk. It had been a defensive instinct, but it failed against the giant snake. The stadium had gone quiet and the dragon had stopped completely. Cyrano could feel his strength waning, so continued before he passed out.

"_**Ias dout vrantvrakic ui vi bahsk ir**_," Cyrano continued in his weak raspy voice, "_**Coi qanescic lae itmen lae wer ferrod siksta, coita shio si sweekmon vur sjek wux origato ve tepoha coi warui jaseve wux loaw**_."

The Horntail's head twisted slightly, like when a dog has found something that looks interesting. Then it turned its head slowly to the pile of eggs and sniffed around until its nose fell on the gold one. It sniffed it again and then, with amazing skill for a dragon of its size, picked the golden egg up in its mouth and turned back towards Cyrano who was slowly starting to lose sight. Then it dropped the egg onto Cyrano. It continued to look at him, so Cyrano gave it one more order before falling into darkness.

"_**Jaseve ve. Gethrisj ptaua ekess dout vrantvrakic**_."

Following the order, the dragon turned away from him and went to her eggs, settling herself around them and laying her head on the ground. Cyrano watched her do so before he remembered no more.

Cyrano was aware of lying on something comfortable. He couldn't remember what happened and tried to sit up. Pain shot through his upper body and neck. He gave out a small cry of pain.

"Try not to move Mr. Odion, you took some heavy wounds with your time against the dragon," the voice of Madame Pompfrey sounded through his head. Everything suddenly rushed back through his mind he groaned. Madame Pompfrey must of thought he had tried to move again because she snapped, "Are you not listening hold still."

It was sometime before someone propped him in a sitting position; that was one he realized there was a good amount of people in the room. Cedric and Fleur were talking near a window across the room; Krum was standing off to the side not talking to anyone. Hagrid was sitting near the door fidgeting with his fingers. Mr. and Mrs. Blaxton were with the twins talking with Dumbledore, Moody was standing silently behind the headmaster. The Gryffindor quidditch team was seated a few beds down from him. No one had noticed that Madame Pompfrey had propped him up.

"Why's is everyone acting like I'm dead," Cyrano rasped out, his voice was even worse than it had been at the task. Every eye was on him now.

"Don't try and talk too much, Cy," Rose told him walking to his bedside, he must have had a questioning looked because she added, "one of the spikes from the Horntail's tail caught your throat. It just barely grazed your windpipe."

"How long since the first task, "Cyrano asked, he wanted to clear his voice, but knew it wouldn't help and it would only cause more pain. Cedric answered him.

"Two days," he said glumly, "you've been out the whole time."

"How much damage did I take," Cyrano asked using his left hand to reach for his right shoulder, it was heavily bandaged, "and why hasn't Madame Pompfrey healed the wounds?"

"You took four spikes to the right shoulder, except for the one that punctured your neck," Blake answered his first question, "one of the other three went all the way through, out the back of your shoulder."

"Madame Pompfrey tried to heal them, but it seems that the Horntail's spikes carried venom to prevent it," Jack answered Cyrano's last inquiry, "so she bandaged the best she could."

Cyrano's eyes glanced around the room, his eyes made contacted with Dumbledore's x-ray blue eyes. He must have read Cyrano's emotions because he suggests that a few people should be allowed to talk with Cyrano at a time. He also suggested that the three champions should be the first because they could fill him in on the next task. Once everyone else had left, Cedric set himself down at the edge of Cyrano's bed, Fleur sat down in the chair next to his bed, and Viktor just stood at the foot of his bed.

"So," Cedric said, "eh, what happened there, inside the dragon enclosure?"

Cyrano was expecting the question and answered it honestly.

"I ordered the Horntail to leave me alone and to hand over the egg," he told them, "then I told it to go back to her eggs."

"But 'ow," Fleur asked, Cyrano looked into her eyes and saw something he thought was fear.

"By using the ancient language of th Dragon Keepers," Cyrano rasped, and then continued with their confused looks, "Dragon Keepers were people, more of a guild, who used magic to influence dragons by using spoken words. Merlin was one of the last of them, I inherited it, though not knowingly, I only figured out I could use it in my second year."

"So you can command dragons, "Krum spoke, it was the first time Cyrano had ever heard him talk.

Cyrano frowned," Sort of, it's more like communicating with someone else, they can decide whether or not I'm speaking the truth. However, there is a technique to it that makes me more believable, I kind of have to force the words. It makes it more commanding sounding, that's why I was lucky in pit because of how weak I was I couldn't put that commanding tone in my voice."

It went silent, the other champions seemed to be trying to grasp the concept, and it was Krum who spoke again.

"I vould like to thank you, Cedric said if it hadn't been vor you ve vouldn't likely have known about the dragons."

"That's unlikely, "Cyrano scoffed, which he resented as it sent more pain through his neck and shoulder, "your Heads would have learned and told you, the only person who may have been at a disadvantage would have been Cedric."

The other three champions nodded.

"So, what's the next task," Cyrano asked after the three had explained their encounters with their dragons.

"We don't know, the eggs are clues to what it's supposed to be," Cedric explained, "but whenever I open it all it does is wail."

"Same wiz me," Fleur said, when Cyrano's gaze turned to her. He glanced at Viktor, who gave a nod to confirm he happened to him as well.

"What happened to my egg," Cyrano asked Cedric.

"Jonathan said he would look over it for you well you recovered," he told Cyrano. He nodded. It was at that moment that Dumbledore made them switch visitors. Cyrano glanced into Fleur's sapphire eyes with his grey ones as she left the room and the Gryffindor quidditch team filed in.

Author's Note: Well, there we have another chapter hopefully things have started to change a bit from what they were in the actual story. I used a random draconian translator to use as the Dragon Keeper's language, which I thought was quite good in the moment that I needed it. I always forget to say: Please rate and comment it's only my second fanfic ever so be nice.


	8. Returning to Classes

Author Note: Continuing on, in this chapter the whole thing will basically focus on Cyrano's return to public. I was hoping to start having Fleur's feelings start to develop for him, but his wont develop quite so quickly, still seeing her as a friend. It's going to start out with Fleur and she is thinking about something she saw at the first task that scared her.

Fleur had only seen it because she didn't want to look at the dragon, Cyrano's form had flickered. Fleur was sure other people would have seen it, but looking around she had seen that the only other thing that had reacted to it was the dragon and it had only slowed down. She was running it through her mind over and over again, trying to piece together what she found that had seen. Had Cyrano cast a spell around himself? It hadn't looked like he raised his wand for it and she knew even he didn't have the power to cast a spell without a wand.

She had spent some time in the library trying to decide if what she saw was real. She delved into the topics of body spells and transformations. She deduced that shadows had played tricks with her eyes or Cyrano had a secret he didn't want getting out.

After Cyrano had woken up in the Hospital Wings Fleur started visiting him nearly every day, Cedric did as well. They talked about everything that fancied their interest. Cyrano didn't talk all that much though, it still pained him to talk. Occasionally Veronique or Christelle would join her, but they usually came up with an excuse to disappear. Fleur was alright with this, she found she liked the solitude with Cyrano, with the interruption of Cedric.

Fleur couldn't help but feel that they had made a connection when their hands had met. She had seen something in his stormy grey eyes she had never seen before. Of course, she could have mistaken that with the other thing that kept appearing there, she still couldn't place what it was. Fleur didn't know what to make of it, whether it was because she didn't want to or because it was something she had never suspected.

With the first task over Fleur had decided to wait for some time before she would try to crack the eggs clue. In the mean time she was getting constant letters from Gabrielle who was eager to hear more about Cyrano, Heir of Merlin. Fleur smiled half to herself as she wrote a response to her sisters latest letter. She had just attached the letter to Bruno's leg and let him out of her window when a knock came at her door.

"Come in," Fleur said without taking her eyes off of the disappearing owl. The door to her room opened and two pairs of foot falls filled the room. Fleur turned to find her friends making themselves comfortable on her bed.

"Were you planning on going to see Cyrano again," Christelle asked looking at Fleur with her silver eyes.

"Oui, after my lessons for today, "said Fleur, she got up from her sitting place and crossed her room to get out some of her class books.

"Fleur, may we ask what eet is zat 'as you working wiz an opposing champion," Veronique asked from the bed as well.

"I'm not working wiz him I'm talking wiz him, there is a difference," Fleur said, knowing were the conversation was going, "'e 'as not asked me for any 'elp on 'is egg. Can I ask if Madame Maxime set you up for zis?"

"Non, eet is entirely us, but why, ze, do you keep going back to talk wiz 'im," Christelle asked, her silver eyes penetrating Fleur.

"Because 'e is my friend and 'e likes the company when 'e is in the 'ospital wing alone," Fleur told the other part Veela.

"'E is not alone, 'e 'as other friends, "Christelle said, she fell silent for second before asking, "Fleur, what are you feelings towards 'im?"

Fleur was surprised by the question, "what?"

"What are your feelings towards Cyrano?"

"'E is my friend, zat's all, "Fleur exclaimed. Christelle looked at Fleur a couple of more seconds before turning away. Fleur wasn't sure her friend had believed her, in fact, she wasn't sure with herself in the matter. Cyrano had warned her about the first task, she knew a friend would do that, but then there was that second when he had grabbed her hand. Her heart had begun to race, but she couldn't quite place the emotion that had followed. Surprise? Excitement? Fear? She just wasn't sure. Truthfully she might have considered Cyrano more, but then again, he was younger than her. She decided to just put it out of her mind for the moment.

* * *

Despite like feeling like hell, Cyrano left the Hospital Wing after two weeks in bed. Madame Pompfrey had tried to hold him for longer, he had barely started to heal, but Cyrano thought he might go insane if he was stuck there for any longer. In the end Cyrano got Dumbledore involved and had him order the school nurse to release him. Madame Pompfrey had been extra criticizing of his shape before she was forced to relinquish her hold on him. He left the Hospital wing being helped along by Jonathan and Morgan. He was still a bit weak from the loss of blood, but he could stand up on his own and even walk with a spotter, Jonathan, to watch his steps. His shoulder was still bandaged, not as heavily as when he woke up the two days after the task, but the wounds were only starting to scab. Whatever had been in the Horntails tail spikes was really fighting his body.

Those two weeks had not gone on without events though. Rita Skeeter published a new article on him. She wrote mostly about what had happened at the task and took, in great lengths, to explain how he had managed to thwart the dragon in the end. Cyrano ignored it, it was just giving the public more to talk about when they spoke of him.

When he entered the Great Hall for breakfast it went quiet, people were staring at him as he slowly made his way to the Gryffindor table. Cyrano could hear whispers all around, no doubt talking about his time with the Hungarian Horntail. He sat down in the silence and started his breakfast, soon the chattering began once more and Cyrano heard him being called. He turned to see Cedric making his way towards him.

"Hey Cy, good to be out of the Hospital Wing, isn't it," Cedric asked with a smirk.

"Yeah, though I have a feeling I'll be back in there after the second task," Cyrano said, his voice was a little louder than it had been two weeks before hand, but his voice was just as raspy.

"Just watch your back," Cedric said with a grin, " I hear Snape wasn't to happy with postponing your detention, he'll probably try something nasty. I still have to repay you for warning me about the dragons."

"I'll keep that in mind," Cyrano said with his own grin.

"See you later than," Cedric said heading for the exit of the Great Hall.

"You too, Ced," Cyrano called to the retreating figure. Cedric met up with Fleur in the entrance hall, they exchanged greetings, and then Fleur entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table.

"I didn't know you were being released today," Fleur said questioningly as she sat down next to Cyrano, she usually sat next to Morgan across from him.

"Neither did Madame Pompfrey," Cyrano said giving her a smile. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that Morgan and Jonathan shared a confused look. He only ever smiled to his closest friends, otherwise it was grins and half smiles, "but I got Dumbledore to get involved and in the end he persuaded her to let me return to classes."

"Are you alright wiz walking around in the shape you're in," Fleur asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah, just as long as I have someone on hand to catch me if my legs decide they don't want to cooperate," Cyrano told the French witch.

"So, 'ave you started looking at ze egg," Fleur asked starting her own breakfast.

"No, Nathan has a hold of it and didn't dare open it without my permission," Cyrano said, he felt sort of bad for Jonathan. His friend had to endure another full moon well Cyrano was in the Hospital Wing, so there wasn't anyone who could stay with him. He felt guilty, but Jonathan had told him it wasn't his fault that he couldn't be there.

"Maybe I can 'elp you wiz eet," Fleur offered.

"Thanks for the offer Fleur, but I warned you guy's because I'm not supposed to be in the tournament," said Cyrano taking a bite of his food, "It would hardly matter if I didn't end up learning what the next task is, I also wouldn't care."

Cyrano could see in her sapphire eyes that he had hurt her with what he had said, but he had spoken what he knew to be the truth. He wouldn't care if he failed at the second task, it would give the other champions the fair chance they deserved to win the tournament. However, the look didn't last more than a second before she had an evil grin on her face.

"You 'eard Cedric, we must repay you for what you did for us," Fleur said, "so zis is 'ow I choose to repay you, by 'elping you wiz ze egg."

Cyrano tried to argue with her, "What would Madame Maxime think?"

"She doesn't ave to know I'm 'elping you and even if she does learn of eet, I could argue wiz her that I'm using you to learn ze clue."

She had countered the only argument he had with her; he had really no choice but to submit.

"Fine, you can help me, "Cyrano said irritated. The witch smiled with obvious joy, Cyrano couldn't help but smile as well. Again his friends glanced at one another with confused expressions. Both Cyrano and Fleur both swore they wouldn't worry about if for a week or so though, they wanted a break from the tournament. Soon Morgan and Jonathan had to go to class, Cyrano got his first day back off. Fleur didn't have her lessons until sometime later, so they decided to spend their time with each other. They took a walk out on the grounds, Fleur would have an excuse if she was asked why she was walking with a competing champion, and someone needed to watch him so he didn't over exert himself.

This was the first time they were alone with each other and the spent most of it talking about themselves. Fleur told him about her life in France and her years in Beauxbatons. She talked about here years growing up at her parents' house, then when she started gaining some of the aspects of her Veela side. She explained that she avoided a lot of people because either they were affected by her allure or she got cold glances, mostly from women, who were intimidated by her presence. Cyrano listened to her talk, he was interested in her life. He learned it was much like him, in the prospect that she was the one always being noticed over other people. Then it moved onto his life.

"There's not much to tell, I lived in an orphanage, well more like foster care, for 6 years of my life. Then when I was seven I gave the owners the slip, I never saw them again," Cyrano told Fleur as they made their way across the shoreline of the lake, "I lived on the streets for four years, then Dumbledore came and told me about Hogwarts. I lived out the rest of the summer on the streets, then went to Hogwarts. After my first year was finished, Dumbledore arranged that I would live with the Blaxton's until I was old enough to decide things for myself."

It went quiet for a time well they continued to walk. Cyrano nearly tripped once over his own foot, Fleur caught him before he hit the ground.

"Thanks," he said to her.

"What was eet like in ze orphanage," asked Fleur, Cyrano's expression darkened. He didn't like to dwell on the past and that bit of past he was trying the hardest to forget.

"Let's just say I should have run away sooner than I did," Cyrano told her, she nodded. She glanced at him, probably trying to read his expressions; she swatted a beetle away from her face.

"What about ze scars on your face," Fleur asked, apparently finding something new to talk about.

"I joined a gang a year or so after I ran away, it was part of ingratiating me into the group, "said Cyrano, running his fingers first over the one outlining his aw line, then over the one that outlined his hair line, "I had to do it myself. I'll tell you, it was hard at the time, but after the last few years, I could do it in a heartbeat."

"And what about your 'and, what's so special about eet zat you keep eet wrapped up," Fleur frowned. Cyrano stopped they were near the Durmstrang ship, he looked at her before answering.

"Only a few know about it, people just got used to me having my arm wrapped up," he said starting to work at the folds of the cloth wrapped around his arm, "Sense most people thought I was dead, no one learned about it. You want to know what's on my hand, I'll show you."

Cyrano worked at the wrap a few more seconds before pulling it off and showing her his palm. There, in the center of his hand was a scar shaped like an eye. It was crudely drawn, but it had this feeling when you looked at it you thought you were actually staring into an eye. After a few seconds he drew his hand back in and started to wrap it back up.

"I only ever take the bandage off when I need to change it and to let my arm see the light of day, so every few weeks or so," Cyrano told her as he finished with the cloth wrap.

"Why do you keep eet covered zough," Fleur questioned with a confused look.

"Because you never know when someone could be watching," Cyrano stated flatly. Fleur seemed to pale at the statement.

"You mean to say zat, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, can use ze scar to watch you," she shuddered.

"Possibly, I don't have any way of knowing, but I'm not about to take a chance," Cyrano started walking again. They continued to talk for a while, they started telling stories of some of their past experiences and soon they were laughing. Cyrano actually laughed to, it wasn't his snorts and scoffs of amusement or irritation; he actually laughed. Fleur's laugh lighten the mood, it was light and airy. Then she left for her own lessons and Cyrano made his own way to library without incident.

He worked on the assignments that he had to finish for his classes. Snape had given him a foot and a half assignment and McGonagall wanted him to be able to change a gerbil into a pair of socks. He looked through several different books to find the information needed for the History of Magic assignment and pondered endlessly over Ancient Runes. The class had been going okay for him; they had just started looking at how to apply runes to different objects for different purposes. Except that he still forgot sometimes which rune was which and which came before another. At least it's a step better then Divination, he thought to himself.

It was after dinner, which he had not attended, that he left for the Gryffindor common room. He took his time, not wanting to get to exhausted and trip. He took a shortcut through one of the tapestries and walked right into a ghost. The sensations of having a cold bucket of water roll over him. The ghost, who turned out to be Nick, kept apologizing; it was five minutes before he started making his way again. Soon he stood outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"It took you a while, students keep popping their heads out here to see if you were coming, really annoying," she said, sounding irritated.

"What are you talking about," Cyrano asked, curious.

"You'll find out once you provide the password."

"Balderdash," the portrait swung open and the sounds of many voices met his ears, then he was being pulled into the room. It wasn't long before he learned why the Gryffindors were acting like maniacs. They had been waiting the last two weeks to throw a party for his success-fullness with the dragon. Jack and Blake hosted him up onto their shoulders.

"Didn't think we'd forget, did you," Blake asked from under his left leg.

"Not for a minute," Cyrano grinned. They set him down and food was provided. They had the champion recount what had happened as soon as he was in the arena. He avoided explaining why the dragon had slowed its original advance towards him, but it didn't matter, apparently no one thought anything of it. Soon Jack asked for the egg to be brought down, Jonathan disappeared, as he was the one who had the egg at the moment. He came back with the golden lump in his arms. When he reached Cyrano he tossed the egg to him, he caught it and everyone cheered.

"Open it Cy," Irwin shouted from the back of the crowd, "maybe we can help you."

"But he's supposed to figure it out on his own," Jonathan protested.

"Actually Crouch only said I couldn't ask for or except help from a teacher, he didn't say anything against other students," Cyrano smirked, Jonathan's face broke into an evil smile. Cyrano let people start chanting. The echo of 'open it' went on for a minute or so before Cyrano reached up and unlatched the egg, it fell open and a earsplitting screech filled the common room

Everyone dropped to the ground and had their hands over their ears.

"Close it," a voice just barely hear-able over the wailing came out. Cyrano managed to get his hands back on the egg and closed it shut, latching the golden egg once more.

"WHAT the, bloody hell, was that," Rose exclaimed. Cyrano looked at Jonathan for an answer, but he only shook his head, signifying he'd never heard anything like it before.

"I'm guessing whatever I have to face in the next task," Cyrano thought out loud. Soon it went back to the party life before the egg had been open. Jack and Blake set themselves on either side of Cyrano.

"We forgot to tell you when we were in the Hospital Wing, Sandon tried to get in and curse you well you were unconscious," Blake told him, watching the party continue. Cyrano shuddered at the thought of Sandon being in the same room when he had been asleep; he never wanted to be that helpless again.

"But don't worry we intercepted him, tried to hex him, but he must of saw it coming," Jack explained, "when he tried to curse us back, Moody walked in."

A smile had crept on both of the friends faces, Cyrano could only imagine what had happened.

"What did Moody do," Cyrano asked, cautiously.

"Turned Sandon into a chipmunk," Blake answered. It had been at that precise moment that Cyrano decided to quench his thirst. Butterbeer was squirted everywhere within a five feet radius. He was in uncontrollable laughter. The common room fell silent; it was a rare sight to see Cyrano in such a fit. For that reason people were looking uncomfortable, not knowing whether he was going insane or genuinely laughing at the news.

"WHAT," Cyrano exclaimed after he managed to compose himself.

"Yeah, should have seen it. And when Moody reached for him, oh boy, it was priceless," Jack said with a dazed look in his eyes. Cyrano wished he had been awake for it, "the show was pretty good until McGonagall came in. Never saw a professor with a face of shame, though that didn't do any to diminish the look of madness in his eyes."

The party continued on for a bit longer, but it ended after McGonagall came in and threatened to turn everyone into hogs. Cyrano gladly went to his bed and lay down in the darkness.

His mind drifted everywhere, to Sirius to Merlin, to the dragon, and then to his current position. His shoulder ached and he could do nothing for it, Madame Pompfrey had told him that' his voice would get better, but it would likely have some gravel to it for the rest of his life. He didn't mind that, in fact, maybe it would help scare away anyone who took an interest into his background. Then his mind slipped over to Sandon.

He sighed he hoped that his experience with the dragons would never happen again, it made him feel weak and helpless. If what Merlin said was true an Heir of Morgue, Morgan for you modern people, was at Hogwarts. Then it struck him.

Could Nicodemus possibly be Morgue's heir, Cyrano thought. He certainly hated Cyrano enough, but Morgue had been very intelligent. It didn't look like Sandon was nearly intelligent enough. Then again, Cyrano hadn't gained Merlin's power of foresight; thank the lord, so it was quite possible Sandon could have been her heir. Whatever else that came to his mind was lost by the over powering demand of sleep.

The next day was a miserable one and it all started with Rita Skeeter. Cyrano made his way to Care of Magical Creatures class; Hagrid wasn't sure what to do at this point in the stage of the Skrewts development.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try and see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..."

There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things Harry had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one skrewt was left.

"Don' frighten him, now," Hagrid shouted as Jonathan and Cyrano used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back, "Jus' try an slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that," Jonathan shouted angrily, he had been the most patient of students with the Skrewts, but obviously was starting to resent their existence. He and Cyrano backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with their sparks.

"Well, well, well. . . this does look like fun."

Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that was cornering Cyrano and Jonathan and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby.

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows. Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming still more widely.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

"Really," said Rita, apparently full of lively interest, "I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"

Cyrano noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wild black beard, and his heart sank. He loved Hagrid, he was one of the first friends he had made, but sometimes he could do something really stupid. Where had Hagrid got the skrewts from? Morgan, who was the slowest of the three of them, saw Hagrid's predicament and said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Cyrano?"

"Yes, one of many creatures I find interesting," said Cyrano caught on quickly.

"Ah, you're here. Cyrano," said Rita Skeeter as she looked around. "So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?"

"Yes," said Cyrano frowning, trying to put all the disgust he had for her into his glare. Hagrid beamed at him.

"Lovely," said Rita. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" she added to Hagrid. Cyrano noticed her eyes travel over Irwin (who had a nasty cut across one cheek). Elizabeth (whose robes were badly singed), Henry Maze, a very big Gryffindor (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid.

"Lovely... I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these...er...Bang Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er...yeah, why not?"

Cyrano had a very bad feeling about this, but there was no way of communicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so he had to stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson.

"Well, good-bye, Cyrano," Rita Skeeter called merrily to him as he set off with Jonathan and Morgan, "until Friday night, then, Hagrid!"

Cyrano wanted to rush back and tell Hagrid not to meet with her, but he had several other classes to get to and couldn't miss them. After he was finished with a particularly interesting session of Defense Against the Dark Arts he went to lunch and he had just sat down with his friends at the Gryffindor table, when an owl dropped a message on top of his porridge. He saw the hand writing and automatically knew he was about to find out the time of his detention.

**_Mr. Cyrano Odion_**,

_Your detention is scheduled for 8 o'clock tonight. Come down to the dungeons were the Potion class is held, I have some work that has been neglected for some time. Do not arrive late or there will be consequences._

_**Professor Snape**_

The word neglected obviously meant that whatever he was to do had not been attended to for a while just for the purpose of making a student suffer. Cyrano that whatever Snape had planned it wasn't going to be pleasant, he half wished he could be spending his detention with Filch.

"Just be sure to do everything he says, then he won't have anything to get you on," Jonathan told him after he shared the news.

"Yeah, I think I knew that," Cyrano said irritated. The rest of the school day went without incident. Cyrano spent some time in the library, then he took a walk on the grounds. He went back up to Gryffindor tower and spent the rest of his time waiting staring at the fire. When it was a quarter to 8 o'clock, Cyrano left for the dungeons. He didn't slow down for anything; it was good he could walk without help now.

When he arrived at the entrance of the dungeon Snape was waiting.

"Ah, Cyrano I'm glad you heeded my warning of not arriving late, I'd hate to have to give you more work," malice evident in his voice.

"What I'm I to do, sir," Cyrano said with an indifferent expression. Sense he had done nothing to provoke the professor, Snape did nothing and got right to the point.

"As I stated in the message I sent you, you will be taking care of something that has been neglected to be done for some time," Snape said, gesturing for Cyrano to follow him. They stepped into the Potions dungeon and crossed the room until the stood before the students store cupboard. Snape threw the doors open and motioned to Cyrano, "you will be sorting through all the potion ingredients and placing them in there right places. I also want every corner of this cupboard cleaned of the leftovers of past potion fails."

And with that he left Cyrano by himself, or at least in the tiny storage area. Cyrano looked at the mess. Stains were everywhere, jars were open and on their sides. It would take some time; he probably wouldn't finish until after midnight. Cyrano hadn't needed to be told not to use a wand, as there was a bucket of soapy water and a rag waiting for him.

Sure enough it was well past midnight when he had finished. Jars sat in the right position, put in alphabetical order, and had caps on. What had spilled over and left to be contaminated was thrown away. He couldn't do much about the stains, but he did clean the floor as well. Snape was at his desk waiting. When Cyrano approached him he stood up without a word and walked to the dungeons exit. He made no movement that he was going to check Cyrano's work or to bring him back to the Gryffindor common room. So Cyrano made his own way back up. he was glad he made it to the Gryffindor tower without a problem.

When he found his bed, he didn't bother changing. He threw himself on top of the four-poster bed and allowed exhaustion to take him

Author's Note: So, another chapter done. You did learn a bit more on Cyrano. Now the Yule Ball is coming around and let's just say he's not too peachy with it. Please rate and comment, nicely.


	9. Partnering

Author's Note: Finally the Yule ball comes into play, not this chapter of course, but next chapter. Cyrano learns to dance in this chapter and has to find his date for the ball. Who will he choose?

"I have something to say to you all," McGonagall told the class, it was the end of a Transfiguration lesson; they had finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Irwin's still had feathers); they had copied down their homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches").

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above...although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Elizabeth Dawn let out a girlish giggle. Her friend, Alice Buntings, nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Cyrano, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Cyrano thought was distinctly annoying, he wanted the class to finish. He had no plans of going to this...ball.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to...er...let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Elizabeth giggled hard at this, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Cyrano could see what was funny this time: Professor

McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders. Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Odion...a word, if you please."

Not knowing what this was about cautiously approached his professor. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "Odion, the champions and their partners-"

"What partners?" said Harry.

Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Odion," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

Cyrano's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel.

"Dance partners," He felt himself going red, and then he added quickly, "I don't dance."

"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

Cyrano felt like he had taken a stunner to the chest. He couldn't even imagine himself dancing, much less putting on the black dress robes that Mrs. Blaxton had gotten him.

"I'm not dancing," he said.

"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Odion."

"But...I don't-"

"You heard me, Odion," said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.

Two week ago, Cyrano would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But now that he had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a girl to the ball, he thought he'd rather have another round with the dragon. Cyrano had lived out on the streets for four years, he'd never attended anything like this, he wasn't even sure he could dance. He suddenly wished he had shown his other form on the day of the first task. He would have likely been killed on site and if not it would have at least discouraged girls of trying to get him to ask them.

Cyrano suddenly realized how many girls at Hogwarts watched him, it's not like he was looking for it, but now it just seemed to pop out. He constantly had to make sure he was always too busy to talk with anyone. He even once feigned that his shoulder was really hurting him and needed to go to the Hospital Wing. After a long check up by the grumbling Madame Pompfrey, she gave him a potion that would lessen pain. Thinking maybe it would lesson his nerves too; he drank it in under twenty seconds. It just made his body really numb, to the point that he fell down a flight of stairs because he hadn't noticed the drop.

"You're never going to get a partner by avoiding everyone," Morgan told him.

"What about you," Cyrano said out of irritation; he knew that she was right. He then realized how his question came out and added quickly, "shouldn't you be finding someone?"

"I don't need a partner, but for your information, someone's already asked me. I couldn't refuse," Morgan said with too cheery of a voice for Cyrano's liking. It's not like he didn't like Morgan, but being Jonathan's twin he felt it would be a little strange.

When he asked Jonathan about what he should do, Jonathan just shrugged and said, "I don't know."

Jonathan had already told his sister and Cyrano that he was going to go alone. To be there just because it was the most exciting thing he had ever gone to. Cyrano felt a twinge of guilt; again Jonathan had to endure something because he had taken the bite for his friend. Though Cyrano had a suspicious feeling Jonathan would have accepted an invitation if a certain silvery eyed witch had asked him.

Cyrano went as far as to ask Cedric for advice, who had already asked a girl named Cho Chang out, she was in Ravenclaw.

"I don't know what to tell you Cy," Cedric laughed when Cyrano presented him with a question of his predicament, "I thought of all people, besides Krum maybe, you would have already gotten a date. I mean there must be quite a few women who want you to take them."

"See, that's the problem, "Cyrano told his Hufflepuff friend, "I'm being watched at every turn, but I've never gone to event like this. Heck, I'm not even sure I can dance."

"So that's what you're worried about, you're not sure if you can dance," Cedric said with a triumph smile.

"Well, there's that and then there's Rita Skeeter," Cedric chuckled at that statement.

"Ah yes, the terrible Rita Skeeter," Cedric smirked, "well I can't help you with any of your troubles. Sorry, Cy."

That was another thing that Cyrano worried about Rita Skeeter's interview with Hagrid.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone in their last Care of the Magical Creatures lesson. To their very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.

She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Cyrano," Hagrid continued in a low voice. "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the streets. 'Has his personality been different this year then in the last four years?' she said. 'Never seemed to be to distracted in class or never answered you when you talked to him?' I told her no, an she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were under some kind of magic spell, Cyrano."

" 'Course she did," said Cyrano, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. "She wants to keep writing about how Fleur's got some hold over me."

"Yeah, Hagrid," said Morgan with an evil grin as she shelled salamander eggs, "You were supposed to say how Cyrano starts to drool every time she passes by or that he jumps to her every command!"

"But he doesn't," Hagrid said with a frown staring at the three of them.

"She doesn't care; she'll do anything for a story, as she has already proven," Jonathan said, "You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?"

"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Hagrid gruffly, "Should be good to, I reckon. You'll be openin' the dancin', won yeh, Cy? Who're you takin'?"

"No one, yet," said Cyrano with a little more anger in his voice then he had meant to place there. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.

Cyrano had considered asking Fleur, but Cyrano didn't want to risk Rita Skeeter getting a hold of that story and, besides, he would have felt awkward to dance with her since they were competing against each other. It was now only a couple weeks away from the ball and girls were disappearing fast and the ones, who were waiting for Cyrano to buck up, were getting even more persistent.

He was hiding from a particular group of girls in the library. He peeked out from behind a bookshelf to see if anyone was there. He didn't see anything moving, but he felt their presence so decided to wait a bit longer. Then a figure stepped into the rows of bookshelves he had been occupying. It was just Rose; she had been looking for a certain book.

"What are you doing here," she asked with mild interest.

"Doing my best to disappear from the world," Cyrano said taking another peek.

"Oh," said Rose a smile appearing on her face, "why don't you just ask one already, you know you have to open the dancing."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to," Cyrano told her. Then Cyrano got an idea, "Rose?"

"Hmm," she said well she was staring at a page in the book she had pulled out.

"Has anyone asked you to the ball yet," Cyrano asked, watching her.

"Why," she asked, a grin spreading across her face, "you offering?"

"No, I was just wandering if you had a friend," Cyrano said sarcastically, before saying, "yes, I'm offering!"

"Okay, I'll go with you," Cyrano sighed with relief. Rose was the Gryffindor Seeker, not to mention the Gryffindor quidditch captain, so Cyrano had dealt with her before. She was also a year older than him, but he didn't have to worry about that as he wasn't planning on having a relationship with her.

It wasn't until after he exited the library that he had been part of a bet.

"And what bet was that," Cyrano demanded.

"That if you were trapped by a group of girls and a friendly face, who happened to be a girl, came along, that you would ask them under the pressure," Rose told him brightly. He grumbled about taking advantage of situations all the way down to the Great Hall for dinner. He sat down next to Jonathan, Fleur and her friends were there so Jonathan refused to look up from his food.

"So, have you managed to find a partner yet, "Morgan asked as he dished himself some food.

"Yeah, finally managed it when I was trapped in the library by a group of girls, Rose happened to come along and I asked her," if Cyrano had been paying attention, he would have seen the slight downcast expression Fleur's face had formed, but it was gone before he could notice it.

"Damn. Thanks Cy, I just lost five galleons on you," said Blake, who had been passing by at the time.

"You were part of the bet, "Cyrano asked.

"We started it," Jack said, standing next to Blake.

"Figures," grumbled Cyrano, "eh...Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask something of you," Cyrano said.

"Of course, Cy. What is it," asked Morgan looking straight at him

"Can you teach me to dance," Cyrano told her, however he had gotten slightly quiet at the end so Morgan hadn't heard.

"What?"

"I said, can you teach me how to dance," Cyrano repeated. Morgan looked amused, Cyrano didn't like the look.

"Did you seriously ask me to teach you to dance," she asked fighting not to laugh.

"Yes, I did, but let me remind you, you don't often need that skill when you live on the streets," Cyrano said.

"Okay, when do you want me to help you with this...task," Morgan asked, smiling at her pun.

"Whenever you've got free time."

He left it at that, he didn't like the fact that she found it amusing that he had asked her. He could have asked someone else of course, but he knew Morgan and he thought he would be more comfortable with her teaching him.

It was the first night since the first task that Cyrano decided to go and visit his marble friend. He dressed in some warm clothes, not wanting to catch cold from the winter air. As usual he made it to the Astronomy Tower without incident. Ignatius was in an uproar.

"AND WHEN I LEARNED YOU WERE WOUNDED BY A HUNGARIAN-"

Cyrano cast a silencing charm on the dragon and sat and watched the darkness for a few minutes before letting his friends mouth move freely again.

"I hate it when you do that," Ignatius grumped.

"Wouldn't need to if you'd just shut up," Cyrano retorted.

"May I remind you that-"

"You promised Merlin that you would protect any heir that you came across, I know. You've reminded me frequently," Cyrano said.

"And I cannot do so if you keep placing yourself in danger."

"And how many times have I told you I don't go looking for it."

"Whatever, "Ignatius grumbled, "Anyway, what's the second task?"

"No idea, we had to get this golden egg from the dragons. It turns out this golden egg is a clue to the next task," Cyrano explained, "except every time I open it just wails."

"What does it sound like," Ignatius asked, he had lived for many centuries; he could likely identify any magical creature.

"I don't know how to explain it," Cyrano told the stone dragon, thinking of how to describe it, "it's more of a screech then a wail."

"Hmm," was all his friend offered him, "Have you heard anything recently from your godfather?"

"No, I haven't had any time to think of him."

"Just keep your mind on the task ahead then, I can't afford to insult the memory of Ambrosius Merlinus," Cyrano smiled at the use of his ancestor Latin name, he only ever heard Ignatius use it.

"And they call me mad," a gravelly voice came from the darkness. Cyrano spun around and found himself staring into the electric-blue eye of Mad-Eye Moody. Apparently he saw the look on Cyrano's face because he added, "don't worry I have no intention of reporting your late night wanderings."

Cyrano relaxed, but only a little, "what are you talking about?"

Moody stared at him with the magical eye, "the question is not what I'm talking about, but who are you are talking to?"

"It's a bit harder to explain then a spell," Cyrano told his professor.

"Try me."

"Well, okay. You may know that I'm an heir of Merlin, right," Moody nodded, " Merlin did something big for the dragons and the named him Friend. Now that title passes down to all the Heirs of Merlin, so I can speak to dragons."

"Like you did at the first task."

"Sort of. Do you know the difference between a Wild Dragon and a Magus Dragon," Cyrano asked.

"I didn't even know they had separate parties," Moody said

"That's because there is no difference to anyone who does not possess the power the Dragon Keepers," Cyrano said, "Merlin was one of the last Dragon Keepers, so I inherited the power to instinctively use their language, which I like to call, Draconian, seeing as they are one in the same."

"So what does that have to do with you speaking to yourself on top of the Astronomy Tower," growled Moody.

"Well if you see my friend here...er, well I guess you don't," Cyrano said, not knowing how to explain, "See that is where it gets hard."

"I'll try my best to understand, "Moody said, truly looking interested.

"Well, a Magus Dragon is a dragon who was, or their ancestors were, part of a pact between the people who later called themselves the Dragon Keepers. Now the difference between a Magus and a Wild is that I can communicate to a Magus dragon through whichever human language I want and they'll understand, but they must speak in Draconian to speak to me. I'll understand them like I would any other human being, "Cyrano told Moody, "Wild Dragons can't speak like a Magus can and I have to talk to them using Draconian, so I have to trust that they trust me. Anyway about why I look like I'm talking to myself is that my friend here, who probably appears to you as a regular statue, was once, a Magus Dragon."

Both of Moody's eyes wondered over to the spot where Ignatius sat, "so your telling me that the statue right there was once alive?"

"Still is, like I said it's hard to explain," Cyrano said running his hand through his shoulder length hair, "see, as you aren't a Dragon Keeper any dragon would appear normal to you, but to me a Magus would appear tame because we can communicate. Ignatius here was a alive over eight hundred years ago and when he did he had his soul bounded to this stone statue. As he was a Magus Dragon, I see him for what he is as you do, only I see the Magus dragon well you see the statue."

"So your telling me that the statue there is talking to you," Moody said, Cyrano couldn't tell Moody's expression as he was standing in the shadows.

"Yeah, look I'll understand if you-"

Moody interrupted clunking across the balcony, "I've seen many bizarre things, Odion, and as you probably have read into the subject understand it far better than me. I believe you're telling the truth."

"Thanks."

"I also think you have something bigger to hide and it has to tie into some of what you just said."

Cyrano didn't know how to answer, Dumbledore had obviously filled Moody in a bit after the first task, but not enough to reveal his secret.

"You don't have to tell me, I'm just saying what I know," Moody told him, "but I do have one question for you?"

"What's that sir?"

"How do you get around all the teachers when you come up here?"

Cyrano hesitated, he didn't know what Moody would do when he showed it to him, but Moody showed he could trust him.

"With this sir," Cyrano held out the Marauders Map," it shows the entire school and everyone in it."

Moody took the parchment and looked at it. An expression crept on to the ex-Auror's face. Was it amazement? Shock? Excitement? Cyrano couldn't tell which.

"Did you say everyone," Moody asked quietly, still staring at the map.

"Yes."

After a couple moments, "Odion, do you mind if I borrow this?"

With no way out he said, "No, I don't mind."

The professor started turning away and then looked back at Cyrano.

"A couple more battles and maybe you'll get scars like mine. You already have the voice," Moody grinned, "ever thinking about being an Auror?"

"I don't know exactly what an Auror is sir," Cyrano told him.

"Sort of like a muggle police officer, only a lot harder work. I think you'd fit in fine," Moody said, and then he left.

"So that's what Alastor Moody became," Ignatius said knowingly, "If that what you turn out to be, I think I would have failed Merlin even if you didn't die."

Cyrano grinned at the comment and decided it was time to get back to the Gryffindor tower. He had to be even more cautious on his way back now that he didn't have the Marauder's Map. When he got back he flopped down in his bed and drifted off to sleep.

"Now take my waist," Morgan told him with a smile.

"What?"

"Take my waist."

"Why," Cyrano interjected.

"Because it's the correct way to hold your dance partner, now take my waist," Morgan said forcing his hand down to her waist. It was during their free periods they had decided to teach Cyrano dancing. It had been a week from the time that he had asked Morgan to help him, they had a lot going on during that time. Fleur and him started trying to work out the clue, but everyday Cyrano swore he only became deafer with each encounter of the golden eggs. Now it was nearly a week before the ball, they had two more days of actual classes before Christmas break started.

"Stop being skittish, Cy," Morgan said as he tried his best to do what she told him to do.

"Well, I'm sorry if I feel uncomfortable to be dancing with my one of my best friends," he was glaring at Fleur and her friends who had tagged along, they were all laughing at him as well. Jonathan was also there, but he was smirking alone in the corner as far away from Christelle as he possibly could.

"Don't worry, Nathans here, he'll protect his sister's honor," Morgan chimed, Cyrano glared at her very darkly, "OK, Fleur start it.

In the corner where she was sitting with her friends, Fleur started the radio and found a channel where they were playing proper ballroom music. They started slowly, unfortunately, Cyrano always had a knack for learning things quick. A gift graced by one who spent four years of his life on the streets. By the time they had listened and danced to four songs, Morgan was impressed with him.

"I thought you said you couldn't dance," Morgan grinned.

Cyrano shrugged, "I guess I just pick things up fast."

"If you're not careful Cyrano, every girl at ze ball will want to dance wiz you," Fleur said with a grin that mirrored Morgan's.

"Oh, great that's all I need, more attention," Cyrano grumbled. Everyone laughed.

"I wouldn't be complaining," Jonathan told him, "At least you're not in my condition."

Cyrano and Morgan both glanced at each other, they only wished they could help him.

"Why, what's wrong wiz you," Christelle asked, piercing the three of them with her gaze.

Jonathan just waved it away and said, "It doesn't matter."

She kept staring at them, but gave up once Morgan and Cyrano started to review what they had gone over. Cyrano had decided that the ball wouldn't be all that bad, as long as he didn't ever have to repeat it.

Fleur had been a bit disappointed when she learned that Cyrano already had a date, she had been hoping to go with him because he one of the few men there that wasn't affected. Now she would have to find someone else, which didn't look too good. When the ball had first been mentioned she had been set on avoiding it, then she learned that the champions started the dancing.

It was getting really close and she saw how Cyrano's life had been for a few weeks. With the lack of girls, having found dates already, men started following her around, though not in packs. They would wonder by when they though they'd catch her off guard or distracted. Occasionally when two or more men would wonder up at the same time, it would go from a word battle to fist fights.

She had thought maybe asking Morgan's brother; she figured no one would ask him. She had worked out that Jonathan was the friend of Cyrano's who turned into a werewolf each month, mostly because he looked sick before and after the full moon. Also because she noticed that Cyrano and Jonathan disappeared early in the evenings during the day of the full moon as well. However, she decided against it, she had noticed Christelle eyeing him for a while

"Your nearly as bad as Cy," Morgan had told her after Fleur had come to ask for help, though she couldn't really blame her.

"Please, I will look stupid if I show up by myself," Fleur pleaded with her.

"Let me think," Morgan said with a mocked thinking expression. Morgan told her to wait a day well she looked around. Fleur hoped that Morgan had good judgment, the girl was sometimes a little too over enthusiastic. When Fleur met with Morgan again, she told Fleur that she had found someone that wouldn't be too bad to be around.

It turned out to be the other Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. His name was Richard Telis. Cyrano size didn't even compare to this guy, he stood at least two heads above her. Fleur learned that he was quite resistant of the allure, though it took a few seconds for him to answer her questions at first. In the end Fleur was happy she had found someone who wouldn't be drooling over her the whole night.

Author's Note: Not much to say about this chapter. Yule Ball will take place next and some more things will happen. Rate and Comment.


	10. Yule Ball

Author's Note: The Yule Ball finally. You know the drill, they arrive the dance, and etc., etc. A few things will play out differently as always.

The day of Christmas break came much to everyone's joy. Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Cyrano. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term. Even Professor Vector had them working on Runes to the end.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings.

"Morgan, I've just realized, we never asked you who was taking you to the ball," Cyrano asked over breakfast. Morgan blushed well Cyrano, her twin, Fleur and her friends watched her, waiting for an answer.

"I'd rather not answer that," Morgan answered curtly.

"And why is that," Jonathan asked suspiciously, "this isn't some idiot who doesn't know who's sister their messing with because-"

"And that is why I didn't want to say anything," Morgan glared at her overly protective twin brother.

"Hey, I think I have right to know," Jonathan interjected. They continued the bickering as the other four watched.

"'Ow 'as eet been going wiz ze egg," Fleur asked, she was sitting next to him which she had been doing more often since the first time she did so.

"Still screeches, "Cyrano told her, grinning at the arguing brother and sister.

"I don't understand, zere must be something we missed," Fleur said, she was contemplating on sending a letter to asking her father about it.

"Listen it's nearly Christmas, just relax for a bit, "Cyrano told her, "besides I didn't want your help in the first place, so this doesn't set me back any. It sets you back though, you could have probably thought of it already."

Cyrano's dance lessons went on until he could dance to any song, though it didn't take long for that to happen. Then Morgan, Fleur and her friends took turns dancing with him, much to his discomfort. They left after an hour of this and when Cyrano and the twins reached the Gryffindor common room, Cyrano found Archimedes waiting for him at the fire. Cyrano had sent word to Sirius, also some food for his godfather, so Archimedes must have returned with a letter from Sirius's.

Cyrano untied the letter from around the owls leg, who nibbled his fingers affectionately. Cyrano looked at the letter before opening it.

**_Dear Cyrano_**,

_Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitus Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point, but your way was better, I'm impressed. However, next time be careful, you were to close to death's hands for my liking._

_I must say that we have to talk at some point. You're hiding something from me and I want to know what it is. It might seem like I'm trying to force things out of you, but I'm concerned for you and just want to know that whatever you hide won't jeopardize you later._

_Don't get complacent, though, Cy. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open -particularly when the person we discussed is around and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble._

_Keep in touch; I still want to hear about anything unusual._

**_Sirius_**

"He right you know," Jonathan said, he had been reading over Cyrano's shoulder.

"Yeah, I know," Cyrano said, folding the letter and put it into a pocket, " but he acts like I'm not looking out for myself, I've been looking for an attacker at every corner!"

"He's just worried," said Jonathan.

"He could do a little more worrying on his part, his the convicted mass murderer," Cyrano snapped, "besides we've got Moody I'm sure with my watchfulness and his paranoia we'd spot anyone from a mile off."

"You can never say for sure," Morgan piped in. It was good thing the common room emptied considerably, or the other Gryffindors would likely be giving them strange glances. Jonathan flops down in a chair by the fire.

"So, how's the egg going," he asked Cyrano.

"Like I told Fleur, nothing new has happened," Cyrano sighed, "and like I also said, I don't want to even be in this."

"If you don't try to make it through this, that is where the person who entered your name in the goblet could succeed," Jonathan stated, looking Cyrano right in the eyes, " they could kill you or whatever their planning during the task because you have no clue in what you're doing."

"It doesn't matter, I can hardly get anything done with all that's happening," Cyrano said, then asked with a grin, "how about a round of Wizard's chess. What do you say Nathan?"

His friend was quiet for a second or two.

"Oh, alright," said Jonathan as he got up to go get his chess set," I suppose it is hard to work on anything with all that is going on."

Cyrano's grin grew. They spent the rest of their day playing chess, until uninterrupted by Blake and Jack. They started playing a round of Exploding Snap, but ended up running around through Tickling and Stinging charms at one another, Cyrano liked to use the stingers. They finally gave up chasing and did other things, Jack and Blake took up pestering Morgan, Jonathan went to work on some schoolwork, and Cyrano was looking up a spell he had promised someone a long time ago to look up. He decided it would be the best Christmas present he could give them. So when the sun fell from the sky and everyone had retired to bed, Cyrano slipped out of the portrait hole.

Once at the top of the Astronomy Tower, which was really freezing, he greeted his marble friend.

"Ah, come to see me," Ignatius asked, "well, your early for Christmas, what did you want to talk about?"

"Who said anything about talking," Cyrano asked as he stepped in front of his friend, "and who said I didn't have anything to give you?"

"What's that, you've got something for me," Ignatius said with mock surprise," what is it?"

"This," Cyrano lifted his wand and aimed it at Ignatius, who flinched backwards, "Missio vestigium."

White light surrounds the white serpent and is covered in it for seconds, and then the light faded. Ignatius looks at himself for several more seconds, then without talking gets up and takes flight. Cyrano watches as he soars around the tower a couple of times before landing back at his perch.

"You've released me from that horrible spot," Ignatius tried his best to bow, which is a weird form for a stone dragon to take. Then he gives Cyrano a mischievous smile, "now I can follow you everywhere, no one will ever see me."

"How do you know, it was my magic. It could have very well taken in some of my Dragon Keeper magic that would hide you normally causing you to appear to everyone," Cyrano tried to explain.

"So what, then they'll know that you're not to be messed with," Ignatius told him, still grinning impishly.

"Just don't go scaring people just because you can," Cyrano told Ignatius.

"You know that's not my style,' Ignatius said, "No I scare them because they need it."

Both broke into laughter, Cyrano spent some more time there, on the Astronomy Tower balcony. It is nearly past one in the morning before Cyrano heads back to his bed. His last thought was, _What have I done by setting loose the little flying git_?

When Cyrano woke up in the morning, he didn't even make an attempt to get to his presents. His mind was focused on the Yule Ball, that he certainly didn't want to attend, but it there wasn't much he could do about it. He did get up finally, but not before the others were already digging through their presents.

"Hey, open mine first," Jonathan told him from across the room as Cyrano reached the pile at the edge of his bed. He tore of the wrapping paper of the present given by the male Blaxton twin. It was a book of all sorts of small charms, spells, hexes; Nifty Magic for the Inexperienced.

"Yeah, I thought they may come in useful for the next few tasks," he said well he opened his present from his parents. Cyrano picked that one up next as well. It always felt strange, they had only had him for two summers and they already acted like he was their child. Not to get him wrong or anything, he loved Miles and Kate Blaxton, but he thought he should have been more of an burden to them. However, they had taken him in with open arms and treated him like their own son. He opened their gift and found it was a new wand sheath; it was adjustable to fit around a leg or an arm. It was made from black dragon skin, lined with silver embroidering. He smiled to himself, it was a thoughtful gift considering what he's been through, but he was hoping  
the dragon wasn't harmed to get the skin.

Sirius got him a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot. Hagrid had sent him an assortment of candy. Morgan usually gave him something stating his fashion sense, this year it was some hair bands. Cyrano tucked them away in his trunk, he'd probably never us them.

After opening presents, Morgan met her brother and Cyrano in the Gryffindor common room and proceeded to the Great Hall for breakfast. After which they went back to the Gryffindor Tower where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Fleur, Christelle, and Veronique, along with Blake and Jack, joined them soon afterwards. They started a snowball fight that transformed from something innocent to a violent bombardment on either side. It only stopped when the girls left around five to change.

"What the bloody hell do they need three hours for," Jonathan asked. The boys found their way back to the castle nearing 7 o'clock. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom other picture.267

"Lairy fights, that's the one," she giggled when they gave the password, and she swung forward to let them inside.

It didn't take long to get ready, though some of the other guy's in the dormitory were more self-conscious then Cyrano was. Despite what he thought earlier, Cyrano pulled out one of the hair bands and put his hair into a ponytail. He looked into the mirror and inspected his work. He hoped he'd never have to do this again. He had wanted to remove his bandages, as he was still healing, but the scabs were still evident and he didn't think McGonagall would appreciate it.

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. Rose was waiting for Cyrano at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing emerald green robes, her hair flowing freely.

"You look...wonderful," Cyrano told her as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Rose smirked at the comment.

"Thank you and I must say you look quite dashing," she said, Cyrano couldn't tell if she was mocking him for his own comment or she actually meant what she said.

"Have you seen my sis anywhere," Jonathan asked craning his head to look through the crowd.

"She went down to the Great Hall I think," Rose told him.

"Well, we should get down there ourselves I suppose," Cyrano sighed. They made their way to the portrait hole.

The entrance hall was packed with students too, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Jonathan started looking around for his sister again.

"Nathan, calm down, I'm sure whoever asked her is going to take good care of her," said Cyrano, looking at his best friend.

"What's your definition of 'taking good care of'," Jonathan snorted. Cyrano shook his head, "look, here comes Fleur."

Fleur Delacour was entering the Great Hall in robes of silver-grey satin, escorted by his quidditch colleague, Richard Telis.

"Hello Fleur, it's been a while Richard," Cyrano said, when they reached where they were standing.

"Well, I can't say I'm too happy with not being able to play quidditch," Richard said with his booming voice.

"I know what you mean," Cyrano said, "well, we'll be able to play next year."

"Let's hope," Rose added in.

"So Fleur, I think, after tern starts, we should crack down on the egg," Cyrano said.

"I zought you said to not worry about eet until after Christmas," said Fleur.

"That's what I'm doing; I thought I'd just suggest when a good time would be to work on the egg again," Cyrano frowned.

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes Cyrano didn't know. Over their heads he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here; please!"

As they made their way I the direction of the deputy headmistress, Cyrano spotted Cedric and waved to him. Cedric re-routed his course slightly, so they would meet on their way to McGonagall.

"I see you found yourself a partner, Cy," Cedric called once they were in range.

"I see yours is still accompanying you," Cyrano said, "Cedric, I believe you've faced of Rose before."

"Yes, I've had, on numerous occasions but one, the pleasure to get my back end kicked by her in quidditch," Cedric smirked, "and I believe you both have known Cho from quidditch as well, she's the Ravenclaw Seeker."

"Yes, although I can't say I've personally gone up against her," said Cyrano.

"I have, and I can say you are talented," Rose said, aiming the comment at Cho.

"Thank you," said Cho with a smile. A throat was cleared and their focus was back on McGonagall, who was staring in their direction. They finished their journey to the stern witch.

Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim other hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur and Richard stationed themselves nearest the doors; Richard towered considerably over Fleur. Cedric and Cho were right after them. After Cyrano and Rose, it was Krum and his partner. Cyrano study the girl he was with closely and discovered it was Morgan.

She had been hard to identify because her hair was curled instead of the regular sleekness it usually was. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material and she was smiling rather nervously.

"So, Morgan this was who asked you to the ball," Morgan blushed a deep red, his next statement was for Krum, "Viktor, you'd better be careful, Morgan's has a rather over protective brother."

The famous quidditch player grinned at the comment and turned to ask which of the young men in the crowd was her brother. Cyrano couldn't tell what she said, but he thought he heard 'you'll learn soon enough'.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Cyrano tried to focus his sight on the front table were the judges and champions would be sitting for the start of the evening. He could feel the yes on him, but he ignored them to the point where he wasn't aware of the fact that they were at the head table until Rose gave him a slight nudge.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression that could have killed as he watched Krum and Morgan draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Cyrano suddenly realized, was not there. In his place was a blonde, thin man that Cyrano had never seen before.

Cyrano wasn't sure what to do, so he sat next to the man. He had turned his attention to Cyrano and seemed to be taking the young champion in.

"Hello, my name is Pervis Hadden," he said, holding his hand out to Cyrano, " I was just promoted to Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, I'm here to represent him.

"Why didn't Mr. Crouch show up today," Cyrano asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising - overwork. He's not as young as he was – though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward, but - well, as I say, he's getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with - that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around - no, poor man, he's having a well-earned, quiet Christmas. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

The house-elf that was referred to actual name was Winky and Cyrano had wondered what happened to her.

"I believe Dumbledore took her in here at Hogwarts, she now works with the rest of the house-elves here," Pervis told him when he presented his question, Cyrano had no idea that house-elves worked at Hogwarts, but it wasn't hard to believe considering he's previse exchanges with them.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Cyrano picked his up unsure as to what he was supposed to do in order to get food. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu and then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Down at the other end of the table he could hear Viktor talking to Morgan.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Morgan. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor," said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy, one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

Cyrano chuckled at this and out of the corner his eyes he could see Rose doing her best effort not to burst out laughing.

Fleur was talking to Richard about Christmas at Beauxbatons.

"At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course . . . zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat," Fleur explained, Richard was actually paying attention to what she was saying rather than paying attention to just her.

Cyrano looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit and gazing up at the top table. Cyrano saw him give a small wave, and looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello,and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The "Weird Sisters" now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

"Ready for this," Rose asked as Cyrano stood up.

"Are you kidding, I've been practicing for a week and I still don't feel ready," Cyrano told her as they walked onto the brightly lit dance floor. Cyrano looked for Jonathan, he found him sitting at a table off to the side watching, he gave Cyrano a small grin.

They took the dancing form and started spinning when the music started. It wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it might be, though he was doing his best trying not to catch anyone's eyes, especially any girls. People, who had been watching, soon joined in so the center of attention left the champions.

Cyrano heard the last quavering note from the bagpipe. The Weird Sisters stopped playing; applause filled the hall once more. Once more they started up a tune and Cyrano and rose once more took to the dance floor, Cyrano did it just to keep Rose amused.

After a couple of songs they went to find Jonathan, but when they found the table where Cyrano had seen his friend, Jonathan was nowhere to be seen.

"I wonder where he took off to," Cyrano said more to himself than to Rose.

"I don't know," said Rose. Cyrano spotted Cedric with Cho at a table and Fleur was there to dragging Richard with her.

"Has any of you seen Jonathan," Cyrano asked the lot at the table.

"No, sorry Cy, but your pleased to join us if you'd like," Cedric told him offering him the chairs in front of the table, Cyrano and Rose accepted them.

"So, Ced how's the egg coming along," Cyrano asked once he and Rose had something to drink.

"I wanted to talk to you about that actually," Cedric said, looking around uncertainly, "but I'll talk to you after the ball, there is to many ears that might overhear us."

"Okay," Cyrano frowned, he was sure Cedric had found out how the clue worked. Cyrano turned to Fleur, "where is Christelle and Veronique?"

"Veronique is off with one ze boys from our school and I 'ave not seen Christelle sense zis morning,' Fleur shrugged. It was shortly afterwards that Viktor and Morgan joined them.

"So, this is why you didn't tell Nathan," Cyrano said looking accusingly at Morgan, who blushed.

"Yes, I don't need accusations from you either," Morgan replied curtly when she sat down.

"I wasn't accusing you of anything," Cyrano chuckled and then he looked to Viktor, who had sat down next to Morgan," seriously, though Viktor, I'd watch your back from now on, Jonathan's real protective of Morgan. Should have seen him go crazy back in our second year after, well, some unexplainable events."

"He isn't by chance the one you spoke of the night are names we were all picked, the one who you said is a…," Viktor let it hang so nothing was overheard.

"What, where did you get such a—"

"Come off it, Cy," Cedric interrupted him, "I've noticed a change in Jonathan since last year, I think you know what Viktor's talking about."

"Alright, alright he is, but don't go blurting it out," Cyrano said, aiming it specifically at Rose who couldn't help but understand what they were talking about, "we don't need some great uproar from parents."

Cyrano swatted at a beetle that suddenly flew in his face.

"Let's go dance once more," Rose pleaded, Cyrano couldn't do anything, but be lead to the dance floor. Well dancing, Mad-Eye Moody passed by doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

"Hey, Odion, isn't that your 'friend' over there," Moody growled at Cyrano as he passed by, Cyrano followed where the professor's blue eye was pointing.

In an upper corner of the Great Hall, Cyrano could just make out a tiny little marble figure swaying to the music.

"Ah, crap," Cyrano cursed.

"What, what is it," Rose asked looking in the direction he was.

"Nothing," but when they finished the dance, Cyrano told her to wait at the table were they had been sitting. He made his way to where he had seen the white stoned serpent. Apparently Ignatius had seen him coming because he had found his way into a dark corner where no one could see him.

"What do you think you're doing here," Cyrano asked.

"Oh, please, you can't believe that I'm going to waste away sitting up on the stupid tower until you come to talk to me every night," Ignatius said watching the events of the ball.

"So I guess you still go still when the sun rises," Cyrano questioned.

"No in fact, the little spell you put on me allows me to be seen, as you foretold, I can move about the castle wherever and whenever I want and I don't have to worry about becoming a lifeless statue every morning."

"Great, perfect I just let a little lunatic out on Hogwarts," Cyrano said, putting out his arm for Ignatius to crawl up on.

"Ouch, that hurts, I'm more than a lunatic," Ignatius used mocked hurt as he clambered onto the wizards shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up until I say it's okay for you to talk," Cyrano said, watching to see if anyone was looking in their direction. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large stone statues. Cyrano could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. Cyrano, with Ignatius on his shoulder, set off along one of the winding paths through the rose bushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"... don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

Cyrano dashed behind a bush, he didn't want Snape seeing the stone dragon.

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening," Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it _"

"Then flee," said Snapes voice curtly. "Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts." Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. Cyrano rushed from rosebush to rose bush, bypassing Snape's wand. Once Snape and Karkaroff were out of sight, Cyrano stepped back onto the path.

"I wonder what's got Karkaroff worried," Cyrano said.

"Don't know I don't know enough because of my years up in the tower," Ignatius said, swatting at a beetle that had landed on his snout, "so how was the last full moon with Jonathan?"

"He transforms as usual, though I thought he almost lost control last time," Cyrano sighed, "it would have been horrible if a werewolf had been spotted on Hogwarts grounds."

"Parents would being sending complaints that—"

They had reached a large stone reindeer now, over which they could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain. The shadowy outlines of two enormous people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water in the moonlight. And then Harry heard Hagrid speak.

"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," he was saying, in an oddly husky voice.

Cyrano froze, knowing this was probably something he didn't want to walk in on turned around and went back to the entrance hall. He went back inside; Madame Maxime stormed in moments later looking like she wanted to kill something, and talked with Cedric, Fleur and everyone else, except for Jonathan who still hadn't reappeared.

When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to get their way into the entrance hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Cyrano was perfectly happy to be going to bed.

Out in the entrance hall, Cyrano and Fleur waited for Morgan to finish saying good night to Krum, who was going to wait for Cedric as he had wanted to tell them something. When Cedric finished saying good night to Cho, he came over to the small group.

"Okay," he said , craning his neck to make sure no one was paying too much attention to them, then his focus was on them once more "I would have just been telling Cyrano, but he would end up telling you anyway. The egg you've got to put it under water; I won't tell you exactly what you need to know. However, I will tell you this; you have to stick your head under water to hear the message."

Cyrano and the other two champions were looking at Cedric uncertainly.

"Just do as I say and you'll figure out the rest," Cedric said almost pleadingly. After they gained this information they all dispersed, Krum and Fleur exiting the Great Hall and Cedric and Cyrano going to their dormitories.

Cyrano lay in bed trying to figure the task out by just putting together what he knew from what Cedric told him. _The egg has to go underwater and you have to stick your head under in order to hear the message, so obviously we need to go into water, most likely the Black Lake….._

Jonathan still hadn't returned when Cyrano finally went to sleep.

Author's Note: So that chapter was quite a bit longer. I was thinking with the upcoming task just to reveal Cyrano's secret just because it's would be good to reveal at that point, but I'm not quite sure yet. Not much left to say, so, Rate and Comment.


	11. Cracking the Egg

Author's Note: This is the next chapter note exactly sure what will happen here, might just go right up to the point of the day before the second task, but I'm not sure yet. I'm also still contemplating on whether or not to reveal Cyrano's secret. I think revealing it at the second task would help explain a lot of things, but again it would be a surprise if I released at the end, so still not sure on what to do on that.

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Jonathan finally appeared sometime in the middle of the night when Cyrano had been asleep and with any amount of pushing and prodding, he still couldn't figure out where he disappeared to.

"You'll figure out soon enough," Jonathan said focusing on reading a book, but Cyrano could tell he wasn't really reading it because his friend's eyes weren't moving. He had told both Morgan and Jonathan about what he had heard with Snape and Karkaroff and what he had seen with Madame Maxime.

"Your guess is good as any with Snape and Karkaroff," Morgan said, Jonathan hadn't cared much apparently with her attending the ball with Krum.

"And with Madame Maxime, Hagrid probably said something she found very offensive," Jonathan added, "he probably got off talking and said something and didn't realize what he said until it was to late."

It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over - everybody except Cyrano, that is, who was starting to feel uneasy about the next task.

Cedric had told him to put the egg into water and then stick your head in with it, if he had shared what he had actually learned it would be easier for him to relax. Now that classes had started up, he found it extremely difficult to find free time to work the egg out.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Irwin said, the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire.

When they arrived at Hagrid 's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow.

"Who're you?" said Jonathan, staring at her. "Wheres Hagrid?"

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Cyrano asked the question this time.

"He is indisposed," said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

Cyrano could hear soft laughter, but not the kind you want to hear when your teacher hasn't shown up for class. He turned; Nicodemus Sandon and the rest of the Slytherins were joining the class. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank. Cyrano heart started to sink. He didn't ask the question again knowing the teacher would probably refuse to answer.

"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Cyrano and the twins glanced at Hagrid's cabin with worried looks.

She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Lots of "oh's" and "ah's" followed as the girls saw the unicorn.

"Oh it's so beautiful," whispered Elizabeth Dawn, who didn't speak as lightly as she thought she had, "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

"Boys keep back," barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Irwin, who had been trying to get closer, hard in the chest. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it..."

She and the girls walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot. Cyrano turned to talk with Jonathan.

"Wonder what's with Hagrid, he'd never miss a class and I don't think a skrewt could do much damage to him, what do you think?"

"I don't know, maybe—"

"Oh, please you haven't heard Odion," it was Sandon, he had an evil grin, something Cyrano didn't like, "he just doesn't want to show his _giant_, ugly face."

Cyrano also didn't like how he emphasized 'giant', "Sandon you better have a good explanation or you'll find that you'll be wishing for another sock in your mouth."

Sandon put his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.

"There you go," he said, "Hate to break it to you, Odion..."

Cyrano snatched the newspaper quickly away from his enemy and, with Jonathan and a few other boys looking over his shoulder; he read another newspaper article done by Rita Skeeter

**DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE**

By Rita Skeeter

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."

"_I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm_," says Nicodemus Sandon, a fourth-year student. "_We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything_."

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.

"_I was just having some fun_," he says, before hastily changing the subject. As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature. In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Cyrano Odion is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Cyrano Odion, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

Cyrano felt like he had just fallen of a broom from very high up. Hagrid was half-giant? Suddenly he felt like he should have over heard what Hagrid had said Maxime; it would have made it better if he had learnt the news from Hagrid, even if he didn't tell Cyrano straight up. He took a look at Jonathan, who was also staring wide eyed at the article.

"Why didn't he ever tell us," Jonathan said with a hushed voice.

"What do you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?" Cyrano spat at Sandon, he wanted to address other things that were bothering him first, he pointed at Crabbe, "What's this rubbish about him getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.

"Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," said Sandon, his eyes glinting. "Half-giant…and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young...None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all...They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha..."

"You-"

"Are you paying attention over there," Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over. Cyrano wasn't paying attention to the lesson for the rest of the class period. He's mind was focused on killing both Rita Skeeter and Sandon over and over again in his head. Then it switched over to Hagrid. _Why didn't he ever tell me_, Cyrano thought.

Cyrano hated that people were taking more of an interest in the class since Hagrid wasn't teaching it. True some of his classes could be a little over done, but that's just how Hagrid worked. Morgan didn't realize why he and Jonathan were in such a horrible mood until Cyrano should her the article.

"That horrible woman," she exclaimed, "she's taking everything, way too far this time. I wonder how she even figured out."

"I bet that's what I was hearing him talk about on the night of the Yule Ball," Cyrano said as he was dishing up himself some lunch she could have been hiding anywhere? Hey, Fleur."

Fleur sat next to Cyrano as usual and Veronique went to sit by Morgan, to everyone's surprise, Christelle sat down next to Jonathan, who didn't even flinch away when she leaned against him. Cyrano sat watching his fork still hanging over his plate, a grin forming on his face despite the current situation.

"I have a feeling I know where you ran off to at the Yule Ball, Nathan," Cyrano asked his grin getting wider by the second.

"Yes, well Christelle asked me if I'd walk around with her and I said I would," Jonathan said trying hard not to blush, "would you stop grinning like that."

It wasn't just Cyrano who was cracking a smirk, everyone else was as well. Morgan was looking at her brother mischievously, Veronique was just looking between the two, and didn't seemed surprised.

"Don't worry mate, I've seen it coming for a while, it wasn't that hard to see," Cyrano told him, and dropped it there, which Jonathan seemed to be happy about. Cyrano also showed Fleur the article Rita Skeeter had done on Hagrid.

"I've talked to 'Agrid before, 'e is kind," Fleur said frowning at the newsprint, "you shouldn't worry too much about eet."

"That's the problem though he is," Cyrano told her.

"You should talk to 'im zen," Fleur said looking at him with her sapphire eyes.

"Oh, I plan to after classes today, I want to make sure Hagrid knows that I don't care that his mother was a giant."

"So, 'ave you tried out what Cedric told us," Fleur asked.

"Not yet, with classes starting up it's too hard to find free time," Cyrano scratched his bandages; the wounds were starting to heal fully, "if we can find some free time where I'm not busy, we can help each other out."

Despite what he had said, he never did get to visit Hagrid that day. And for the next week, Hagrid continued to be absent from his classes.

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January, but Madame Pompfrey insisted that he should stay behind. Fleur and Cyrano took this as an opportunity to catch up and work on the egg.

It was about one o'clock in the afternoon and he found himself standing in front of the Black Lake holding his golden egg, Fleur was doing the same.

"You really want to be sticking your head in the water when it's this nippy out," Cyrano asked, his breath visible in the air.

"Why not, eet will at least wake you up, non," Fleur inquired. Cyrano frowned, but knelt down near the edge of the water. First he plopped the egg at the edge of the lake then, he opened it once it was under water. No wailing screech pierced the air, Cyrano gave one more glance at Fleur, who was shivering from the lakes temperature. Then he stuck his head under water.

At first all he registered was very cold surroundings, but an eerie sound interrupted his thoughts.

"_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour- the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back_"

He pulled his head up from under the water, he was shivering like crazy.

"Fleur?"

"Oui," came a very shaky voice.

"You heard all that right," Cyrano asked, he was hoping he didn't need to put his head back under.

"Oui, I zink I remember eet all," Fleur said. Cyrano finally looked at Fleur, she was shivering so badly, he was surprised he didn't feel her shivering from where he sat.

"Fleur, come here," Cyrano gestured to himself.

"What for," she looked at him uneasily, he was unwrapping his right hand.

"Just get over here," she stood up and walked to him. Cyrano, with his hand finally unwrapped, blew into his hands. If anyone had been there to look closely, they would have seen flame light shine through his hand, but Fleur was too distracted to notice. When Fleur was standing next to him, he said, "Take my hands."

She put her hands in his; he was surprised to find her hands were rather coarse. Putting his hands together once more, he blew again into them, this time Fleur saw the spark that ignited into a flame on his hands. Her hands flinched out of his.

"How did you do zat," Fleur demanded, he saw something in her eyes that he had seen the day she had come to see him in the hospital wing, this time he could see evidently that it _was_ fear.

"It's just a trick I learned, besides don't your hands feel better," Cyrano asked, he was actually amused by her reaction.

"Too bad you could not warm our 'eads," Fleur said instead of answering his question, she was holding her head as if she had a brain freeze.

"No, unfortunately, I don't have a trick for that," said Cyrano gloomily as he remembered as to why they were there, "so have any ideas to as what can talk under water?"

"I zink I 'ave 'eard of something like zis before, but I can't remember," Fleur told him still holding her head.

"Will you be fine figuring it out you two or will I have to spell it out to you," a voice said from behind them. Fleur and Cyrano spun around. At first Cyrano didn't spot him in the snow, but it didn't take long before he realized who was talking to him.

"Ignatius, damn it, would you be careful who your giving heart attacks to," Cyrano exclaimed to the two foot tall marbled dragon.

"Well, I'm sorry, but it is quite a simple answer," Ignatius told him, then he turned his focus Fleur, "now, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend."

"She is not my girlfriend," Cyrano frowned at the dragon, taking no notice of Fleur's blushing, "Ignatius, this is Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion. Fleur, this ruddy little git, is my friend Ignatius."

Cyrano explained briefly, cutting down a lot of what he told Moody, how it is that Ignatius existed, and how he came to be following Cyrano recently.

"Eet's a pleasure to meet you, Ignatius," Fleur said uncertainly.

"Yeah, yeah, so like I said before do you need me to spell out the answer," Ignatius persisted.

"Well, I'm guessing whoever they are they'll be under water like the clue suggests," Cyrano said thinking about the verses.

"Well, duh," Ignatius exclaimed.

"And they can only talk under water," said Cyrano straining his mind to come up with an answer.

"Yes," Ignatius urged him.

"Sorry I have nothing," Cyrano finally said, his arms flopping to his sides.

"You are impossible, how about you birdie; do you have something."

"Ignatius!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm getting irritated, were getting nowhere," Ignatius interjected.

"That doesn't give you a right to insult Fleur, apologize," Cyrano insisted.

"Fine, I'm sorry, but can you possibly figure out what this scaly guy can't?"

"Ignatius," Cyrano warned the dragon with a dagger filled glance.

"What, I didn't say anything about it."

"You referenced it though."

That was when Ignatius decided to shut up, despite that Cyrano wasn't done speaking to him. Fleur had been watching the exchange and looked like she wanted to ask a question, but apparently thought better of it.

"Merepeople," her answer came out slowly as though she was uncertain about it.

"Yes, praise the lord, she has brains," Ignatius mocked, Fleur smirked, "now you know the rest a leave you to figure out what you need to do."

Ignatius took flight and they watched him go until he left their site. Cyrano turned back to Fleur.

"So, I reckon the rest is fairly simple," Cyrano said, "We have to find a way to breath under water for a hour, find where the merepeople are, and get back whatever they took from use within that hour."

"Yes, eet does seem rather simple, doesn't eet," Fleur gave him a half-smile. They suggested a few ideas of how breathing under water could be accomplished, but separated from each other's company when the students from Hogsmeade returned. Cyrano wanted to tell Morgan and Jonathan what he learned from the egg.

After he found them in front of the common room fire, Cyrano told them everything. Then they exchanged stories about what happened in Hogsmeade. Apparently Ludo Bagman had been searching for him.

"He had just been talking with a rather gruff looking group of goblins," Morgan said lazily in one of the comfy chairs," he asked if we had seen you and looked downcast when we told him you had stayed in the castle. He rushed out after telling him that, the goblins followed him."

"And then Rita Skeeter came in talking about him, apparently she found it very interested that a bunch of goblins were following him," added Jonathan, "then she spotted us and told us to expect a big article on you in a few weeks if not days. She looked pretty pleased when she said it."

Cyrano's rage had flared again; he couldn't continue to let this woman to spin false stories about everyone.

"Come on," Cyrano said getting up.

"Where are we going," Morgan demanded.

"We're going to have a talk with Hagrid," Cyrano answered as he rushed out of the portrait hole. They made their way out of the castle, across the grounds, and found themselves in front of Hagrid's cabin in less than ten minutes.

Cyrano rushed up to the door, Fang started booming when Cyrano started to pound on the door," "Hagrid, "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -"

The door of Hagrid's cabin opened and in the door way was none other than Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

"Dumbledore," Cyrano was taken aback, but soon left the surprise behind, "we came to see Hagrid."

"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't you come in?"

Cyrano didn't even stop to answer, he just rushed through the door way, Jonathan and Morgan close behind. Fang launched himself upon Cyrano the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Cyrano fended off Fang and looked around.

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.

"Hi, Hagrid," said Cyrano.

Hagrid looked up.

"'Lo," he said in a very hoarse voice.

"More tea, I think," said Dumbledore, closing the door behind Cyrano and the twins, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, "Did you by any chance hear what Mr. Odion was shouting, Hagrid?"

"Cyrano, Morgan, and Jonathan still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

"Of course we still want to know you," Cyrano said, staring at Hagrid. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said. yrano," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling. Cyrano smirked at the statement.

"Anyway, how could you care what she writes," Cyrano continued.

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -"

"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan me ter stay."

"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles, "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh - yeh're not half-giant," said Hagrid croakily.

"No he's not, but Hagrid I'm in the same position as you," Cyrano exclaimed, Hagrid looked rather startled.

"Yeh are!"

"Yes, I have not come out publicly to what I am; only Jonathan and Dumbledore know, but one day it will come out and I may even be in a more difficult position than you," Cyrano continued, "but don't bother asking what I am, I'm not revealing that to anyone until I need to."

"An excellent point," said Professor Dumbledore, "and take a look at my relatives, my own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery..."

"Come back and teach," Jonathan said moving to stand next to Hagrid.

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.

Dumbledore stood up. "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," he said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all. "Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fangs ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Jonathan started patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great man, Dumbledore… great man ..."

"Yeah, he is," said Morgan quietly, "you okay Hagrid?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "Ar, he's righ', o' course - yeh're all righ' ...I bin stupid ... my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'..." More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here..."

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

"Tha was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed...thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum…well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really... but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year..."

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job...trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances ... tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'...well... all tha' respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh...there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say - I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones…I'll give her big bones."

Cyrano would have bet anything to guess Hagrid was talking about Madame Maxime, but he didn't say anything.

"Yeh know wha, Cy?" he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, "when I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it... an' now look at yeh, Cy! School champion!"

He looked at Cyrano for a moment and then said, very seriously, "Yeh know what I'd love. Cy? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all... yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Cyrano?"

"Great," said Cyrano, "Really great."

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

"Tha's my boy. . . you show 'em, Cyrano, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."

He didn't feel guilty because it was only a few weeks before the second task and he had only found out what he was supposed to do. He felt guilty because he wasn't trying to win it, but he couldn't very well tell Hagrid that. He supposed if he could at least make an effort to win, but Cyrano silently prayed that Hagrid wouldn't hold it to him.

Author's Note: This chapter on to a new one, Rate and comment. Okay, I found out that Merlin, according to J.K. Rowling, was born during the Medieval era and attended Hogwarts in the house of Slytherin. However, I'm a big Merlin fan and found it quiet insulting that the greatest wizard of all time was downgraded and put into Slytherin(apparently taught by Salazar himself). So I decided, and it would make more sense because of the actual time Merlin was born(Roughly 450 A.D., Hogwarts wasn't founded until the 9th/10th century), Merlin never attended Hogwarts, he learned on his own as most would do during that time period or be taken on by a master. Merlin, taken from Mary Stewart's Merlin Trilogy, had a tutor by the name of Galapas, he taught Merlin (in his early years, before Vortigen) about geneal nature (Biology) and how to control the Sight(Or Inner Eye, which ever way you may choose to say it). A lot of refernces will probably be taken from the Merlin Trilogy as it is quiet good and accurate on the history of Merlin, so if you have no clue to what I refer to when I talk about Merlin, read the trilogy. Though not all of what I write will e based on those books, some of it will be my own.


	12. Task Two

Author's Note: Okay, this chapter will be Cyrano looking for ways to get past the second task, and considering he already knows the egg's clue it will stretch into the second task as well. I think I've decided I'm going to reveal what Cy is in this one, just got to decide how I want to do it. (Sorry it's been taking so long to post chapters, school's started so...)

"No, I don't have a clue to as what kind of spell could allow you to breath under water for an hour," Jonathan snapped after Cyrano's hundredth time of asking. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Irwin's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance.

"Well I have to think of something, can't exactly go down to the Lake on the twenty fourth, stick my head in the Lake, and ask the merepeople to give back whatever they took," Cyrano said as the cushion he was trying to banish lightly nipped the box they were trying to banish their cushions into.

"Well this would be a good time to go pick up a book a look it up wouldn't it," Jonathan said, considering Jonathan's obsession with books, Cyrano wasn't sure if he was mocking him or not, "or how about asking Fleur, she might have an idea."

"I want to try and finish this task without any help like the last one," Cyrano whispered as sent another cushion flying. He reached up and subconsciously rubbed the spot where he had been hit by the Horntail, it had completely healed with some help by Madame Pompfrey. The scars that the wound had left were quite noticeable, he'd even seen people staring at the spot well they thought he wasn't looking.

Cyrano sent a brief message to Sirius telling him of the second task and asking if he knew anyway to accomplish it, telling him to send backward as fast as possible. A week before the task was to take place Fleur informed them that her father would be coming to watch the task, she also said Gabrielle would be joining him as well.

"Oh, great another fan," Cyrano sighed.

"Eet won't be zat bad, she just wants to see you," Fleur said smiling at him.

With only a week left Cyrano was starting to panic. Morgan suggested using the Summoning Charm again - Cyrano had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Morgan couldn't see why Cyrano shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Jonathan squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Cyrano managed to learn how to operate an Aqua-Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts.

"Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Jonathan said, "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing..."

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," said Cyrano. "I suppose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me..."

"I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Jonathan seriously, "No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm. Have you looked at the book I gave you for Christmas?"

"Where do you think I started looking first," Cyrano asked Jonathan.

So Cyrano, thinking that he would soon have had enough of the library to last him a lifetime, buried himself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though he, Morgan, and Jonathan searched through their lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends - though Cyrano asked Professor McGonagall for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-like librarian, Madam Pince, for help - they found nothing whatsoever that would enable Cyrano to spend an hour underwater and live to tell the tale.

Unlike the last task where he had had an idea to as what the weakness of his foe was, Cyrano couldn't find a way to breath under water for an hour. He was actually feeling very nervous about this task.

With two days left. Cyrano started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl he had sent to Sirius. He pulled off the parchment, unrolled it, and saw the shortest letter Sirius had ever written to him.

_Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl. Unfortunately I have no idea as to how to get past your challenge._

Cyrano turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank.

"Weekend after next," whispered Jonathan, who had read the note over Cyrano's shoulder. "Here - take my quill and send this owl back straight away."

Cyrano scribbled the dates down on the back of Sirius's letter, tied it onto the brown owl's leg, and watched it take flight again. Sirius had been one of his lasts hopes, the last one being the library.

"Why do you suppose he wants to know Hogsmeade dates," Morgan asked.

"I haven't a clue," Cyrano said.

"Come on, Care of Magical Creatures," Jonathan told them, Cyrano wanted to skip, but Hagrid was doing well with teaching again.

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could. Cyrano didn't know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Alice and Elizabeth went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

"Easier ter spot than the adults," Hagrid told the class. "They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at around four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin when they're babies .. . don mind boys so much... C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want. . . give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps. . . .

"You okay, Cy," Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns.

"Yeah," said Cyrano feeling like he should say more, but couldn't get anything else out.

"Jus' nervous, eh," said Hagrid.

"Just a bit, maybe," said Cyrano, knowing full well he was more than just a bit nervous

"Cy," said Hagrid, clapping a massive hand on his shoulder, so that Cyrano's knees buckled under its weight, "I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?"

Cyrano nodded, but even as he did so, an insane urge to confess that he didn't have any idea how to survive at the bottom of the lake for an hour came over him. He looked up at Hagrid - perhaps he had to go into the lake sometimes, to deal with the creatures in it? He looked after everything else on the grounds, after all-

"Yeh're goin' ter win," Hagrid growled, patting Cyrano's shoulder again, so that Cyrano actually felt himself sink a couple of inches into the soft ground. "I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win, Cy."

Cyrano just couldn't bring himself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Pretending he was interested in the young unicorns, he forced a smile in return, and moved forward to pat them with the others.

By the evening before the second task, Cyrano was half tempted to just forfeit himself from the task, but the image of Hagrid's face kept him looking for a charm that could help him. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could he have let this happen?

"I should've learned to be an Animagus like Sirius."

"Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted," Morgan exclaimed as she looked through _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes._

"Or a frog," Cyrano sighed.

"It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," said Jonathan vaguely, now squinting down the index of _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions_. "Professor McGonagall told us; remember... you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office ...what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it..."

"I know Nathan, I was joking."

"I'm sorry, I'm just so tired and we've must have looked through hundreds of books," Jonathan shut the book he was currently looking through.

"Hey, you three," a voice called to them. Cyrano looked up from his book to see Jack and Blake coming towards them.

"What are you two doing in here," Morgan asked, "I didn't think you could read."

"Very amusing, Morgan, but were here looking for you two," Blake said, pointing at Jonathan and Morgan, "Professor McGonagall wants you."

"What for," Jonathan asked quizzically.

"Don't know," Jack said, "but she looked rather gloomy. Come on, were supposed to escort you to her office"

"We'll meet you back in the common room," Jonathan told Cyrano as he got up to go with Morgan - both of them looked very anxious, "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," said Cyrano uneasily.

By eight o'clock. Madam Pince had extinguished all the lamps and came to chivvy Cyrano out of the library. Staggering under the weight of as many books as he could carry, Cyrano returned to the Gryffindor common room, pulled a table into a corner, and continued to search. There was nothing in _Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks_. . . nothing in _A Guide to Medieval Sorcery_ . . . not one mention of underwater exploits in _An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms_, or in _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep_, or _Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do with Them Now You've Wised Up_.

The common room emptied slowly around Cyrano. People kept wishing him luck for the next morning in cheery, confident voices like Hagrid's, all of them apparently convinced that he was about to pull off another stunning performance like the one he had managed in the first task. Cyrano didn't answer any of them, focusing on the books in front of him. By the time Cyrano finished the books he had brought with him, neither Jonathan nor Morgan had returned.

It's over, he told himself. You can't do it. You'll just have to go down to the lake in the morning and tell the judges...

He didn't even realize he was asleep until he found himself in a familiar tree covered dream. He picked himself up and brushed of the dirt on his clothes, it was pointless of course, when he woke he would find himself in front of the common room fire.

"Merlin, where are you," Cyrano called.

"Right here dear chap; thought I've forgotten about you, have you," Merlin stepped from under the eaves of a tree.

"Not likely, you wouldn't ignore such an important person," Cyrano smirked despite his circumstance.

"Your right, now why have you called me," Merlin asked watching the young wizard.

"What? I didn't call you," Cyrano said surprised.

"I beg a differ, I wasn't planning on talking to you until after the whole tournament was finished, so I didn't call on you."

"Well…," Cyrano thought, he supposed maybe this was the best chance he was going to get, "see I have a bit of a dilemma."

"And what sort of dilemma do you have," Merlin asked.

"The second task, I have to go into the Black Lake and retrieve an item, but I have a one hour time limit—"

"Say no more I have the answer to your problem," Merlin interrupted.

"You do," Cyrano said excited and relieved, "what's the spell?"

"What do you mean what's the spell, I'm talking about an item."

"Oh, but I don't have the time to go looking for an item, much less the time to master a spell."

"What are you talking about boy, I just said I have the item," Merlin said looking at Cyrano like he was falling of his rocker.

"But how does that work this isn't a physical world, you can't just hand me an item and expect me to wake up with your item in my hand," Cyrano argued.

"Lad, I'm Merlin. The greatest of all wizards, I can do amazing things. Now do you want my help or not," Merlin asked crossing his arms.

Cyrano didn't see what harm it could do if he accepted, if it didn't work he would already have to forfeit the task and if it did work he would be able to get past the task in a breeze.

"Fine what is this item you have for me," Cyrano asked watching his ancestor.

"Just give me a moment to retrieve it," Merlin said still standing in the same place, "it's amazing I haven't forgotten about it. I got it so long ago from an old friend. Ah here it is."

Merlin lifted his hand, closed his fist, and then opened it. In the middle of his palm sat a thick-glossy greyish scale just a bit bigger than his big toe's toenail.

"What is it," Cyrano asked taking it out of Merlin's hand.

"It's a scale of an Aqua Draconian," Merlin pronounced proudly, "helped that particular fellow out of a rough patch. Gave me the scale just in case I ever needed to make a trip somewhere deep, dark, and wet, though I like good Transfiguration myself."

Cyrano hadn't been listening, his mind had wandered off to the last task. He had risked showing himself then, true this wouldn't be his actual form, but it could very well make others suspicious.

See Cyrano was part draconian.

His mother's great, great, great, great, great, well, too many greats to count grandfather was full draconian and the form had skipped until Cyrano. He had tried to argue that his mother had been muggleborn, but Merlin had told him that no matter what a muggleborn has some ancestor that was of wizard descent. And as you can imagine there is a different variety of Draconians, Cyrano was descent from the Ancestral Draconians, known to be the original of the species.

Now Cyrano never shared this piece of information with anyone, besides those who already knew about it, because of the law set in Ancient Rome. Draconians are war like and the Romains fearing large scale battles with them, ordered that any Draconian found should be killed on sight. When the Draconians vanished fifty years after the order was set, they were forgotten about, though the law was never revoked as far as Cyrano was concerned.

Cyrano knew the truth though, they were still out there somewhere, and he was going to find them.

"So you going to use it," Merlin asked apparently aware that Cyrano wasn't paying attention.

"Of course I'm going to use it, it's the only option I've got," said Cyrano, closing his fist around the scale, "thanks."

"It's part of my job of keeping you alive," said Merlin, the world started going dark," take care."

The last thing he heard before he woke up in front of the common room fire was a booming laugh from Merlin. When Cyrano did officially wake, he found that it was twenty past nine. He didn't have much time.

Cyrano didn't stop for anything, he made sure he had his wand, in his brand new wand sheath, around his leg and that the scale was in his hand, which he was glad to find it was. Cyrano realized he didn't know how to activate it. He hoped all he had to do was jump into water.

As he pounded down the lawn he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Cyrano ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold draped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Cyrano sprint toward them.

"I'm...here ..." Cyrano panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur's robes, "sorry….Fleur."

"Zat is alright," Fleur was looking at him worriedly.

"Where have you been," said a bossy, disapproving voice, "The task's about to start!"

Cyrano turned to the table of judges to see Pervis Hadden sitting in Mr. Crouch's seat, apparently Mr. Crouch was not in good health.

"Now, now, Pervis," said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely relieved to see Cyrano, "Let him catch his breath!"

Dumbledore smiled at Cyrano, Madame Maxime looked indifferent at his arrival, but Karkaroff didn't look at all pleased to see him. ... It was obvious from the look on his face that he had thought Cyrano wasn't going to turn up.

He was rushed into a little changing room where he was allowed to change into proper swimming clothes like the others and when he stepped out he found them lined up at the edge of the platform. They were spaced at ten feet intervals.

"All right, Cy," Bagman whispered as he moved Cyrano a few feet farther away from Krum, "Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," Cyrano said. Bagman gave Cyrano's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "**_Sonorus_**!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

"**_Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three_**!"

A shrill whistle pierced the air and the champions all jumped into the water. Cyrano clutched the scale tightly, when the water enveloped him he felt the scale dissolve in his hand and his form instantly changed.

His form was a greyish human/lizard type figure, he had gills and instead of a nose he had a snout. Scales covered his whole body and he had frill that ran up and down his spin. He found he had a tail, which felt strange because in his own form he didn't have one. His feet were webbed as well as his hands.

Cyrano found that all the other champions had taken off already, so he set off on his own as well.

* * *

Cedric hit the cold water and cast the Bubble Head Charm. His head was warmed instantly, but the rest of his body was frigid from the cold. He didn't wait to find out that the others had chosen in order to accomplish the task he took off in the direction of the center of the lake.

Cedric swam in eerie silence, as he went deeper it got darker, soon Cedric couldn't see farther than two feet in head of himself. He could only think about the thing he would miss most. Cho.

He had to admit it was a clever tactic for them to hurry, but he thought it was also very dangerous. What if something goes wrong and one of the hostages dies. Cedric didn't like to think about it.

It was somewhere between ten to fifteen minutes that he felt something following him. Cedric could only think of Grindylows, but he knew there were far larger threats then the spindled fingered creatures. He was unexpected when an Asrai crept up on him.

The translucent water creatures were supposed to be nocturnal, but Cedric supposed it got so dark in the lower areas of the Black Lake that they could easily mistake day for night. It rushed him, Cedric barely moved out of the way, it was too hard to see. Cedric was digging deep into his mind to try and remember what was effective against it.

It was about the third time that it charged that he remembered. _Duh, their nocturnal creatures, they hate sunlight_, Cedric thought.

"_Lumos Solem_"

The light generated from his wand was as bright as the sun, causing the Asrai to dissolve becoming complete with the water around it.

Cedric moved on he wasn't sure how much longer he had, but time was running out.

* * *

Viktor cast his spell, his head transformed into the head of a shark. He was out of sight of the other champions within seconds. He made his way to the center of the lake. It was obvious that the merpeople would make their settlements there.

Viktor's vision was limited by the eye sight of his current head, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It became worse when he got lower where you could hardly see three feet in front of your face. He's progress was slow. He didn't even know how long it had been since the beginning, what fifteen, twenty minutes now?

He didn't know it was there until it was in his face. It was humanoid with webbed hands, it had fur covering its shoulder, and it had a strange lump just above the eyes in the middle of its forehead. Upon seeing Viktor, black substance squirted from the lump on its forehead. When it got into his nostrils it burned something fierce, Krum lunged at it, but it was far too quick to catch.

Krum raised his wand and aimed it at the creature he now recognized as a Bagiennik, malevolent water dwellers that squirt black liquid. This substance was so hot that it burned the victims it hit, but it was also provided with notable healing abilities for rheumas, deep wounds, indigestion, heart illness and even infertility. The substance was key ingredients in a lot of modern healing potions.

"_Mucus ad Nauseam_"

The Curse of the Bogies seemed to work effectively against it, the Bagiennik had such a bad runny nose, Viktor was sure its own nose would be burning for weeks.

The creature disappeared into the gloom and Viktor Krum continued on his journey to find they thing he would surely miss the most, Morgan.

* * *

Fleur cast the Bubble head Charm and looked around, she couldn't see all that well, but she could have sworn she had seen a large lizard like creature somewhere to her left. She didn't hang around to learn if it was friendly. She made her way to the middle of the lake where she would likely find what she would miss most. Gabrielle, her little sister.

The silence was over whelming, it was as if a Deafening Charm had been placed on her. What made it even worse was the darkness that crept up as she went lower into the lake. It had to be at least a half-hour into the task, or maybe less. Time itself seemed to dissolve in the water, making it impossible to know how long she had been under.

She found a small forest of lake-weed; fishes darted in and out of it. Fleur proceeded unaware of the creatures lurking just below. She swam slowly her wand was drawn, she held in in front of her waiting for something to appear and attack. She wasn't expecting an attack from below.

Thin slender hands roughly grabbed her legs, hands, hair pretty much where they could get a hand hold. The horned creatures started dragging her under the lake-weed. Fleur started throwing every spell she could think of. When managed to pull one p she saw what her attackers were. Grindylows.

She thrashed around trying to throw them off, but every time one was gone a new one took the others place. Fleur resigned if she was going to be taken there was nothing she could do about it. And as soon as the creatures were there they were gone. Fleur looked around, but found only emptiness. She wasn't exactly sure if she had just been attacked or if it was some kind of illusion.

She decided to continue on rather than stay around and wait for whatever scared away the Grindylows.

* * *

Silence pressed upon his ears as he soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. He could only see ten feet around him, so that as he sped through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the incoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. He swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, his eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around him to the shadow beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past him like silver darts. Once or twice he thought he saw something larger moving ahead of him, but when he got nearer, he discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions, merpeople, Jonathan, the thing he would most surely miss, - nor, thankfully, the giant squid.

Light green weed stretched ahead of him as far as he could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. Cyrano was staring unblinkingly ahead of him, trying to discern shapes through the gloom . . . and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of his ankle.

Cyrano twisted his body around and saw a grindylow, a small, horned water demon, poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around Cyrano's leg, its pointed fangs bared – Cyrano reached down and pulled his wand from the sheath attached to his leg. He bared his own fangs at the small creature. The thing flipped out, it was there holding him and then it had vanished. He had no idea that he had just saved another champions life.

Cyrano continued the journey through the watery gloom. He knew he must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving but the rippling weed.

"How are you getting on," Cyrano thought he was having a heart attack; the lack of noise seemed to amplify ever sound. He whipped around and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of him, gazing at him through her thick, pearly glasses.

"Myrtle," Cyrano shouted, his voice came out in a deep raspy voice, "what the hell ar you trying to do, kill me with a heart attack?

"Speak for yourself. You want to try over there," she said, pointing. "I won't come with you... I don't like them much; they always chase me when I get too close..."

"Thanks Myrtle," Cyrano told her and went in the direction she had pointed in.

He swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mersong.

"_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took_..."

Cyrano swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Cyrano swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

"..._your time's half gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot_..."

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Cyrany saw faces . . . faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaids in the muggle books he had read through about mythical creatures…..

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Cyrano as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Cyrano sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Cyrano sped around a corner and a very strange sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Morgan was tied between Jonathan and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Cyrano feel sure that she was Fleur's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Cyrano sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for Christmas - locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter of a mile away, no use to him whatsoever. He thought about asking for one of the merpeople's spears, but decided against it.

There were rocks littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Jonathan, and after several minutes' hard work, they broke apart. Jonathan floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water.

Cyrano looked around. There was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? He turned back to Morgan, raised the jagged rock, and began to hack at her bindings too –

At once, several pairs of strong gray hands seized him. Half a dozen mermen were pulling him away from Morgan, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing. "You take your own hostage," one of them said to him. "Leave the others ..."

Cyrano knew it was no good to try and fight them so he sat and was sometime before Cyrano looked up and saw Cedric swimming toward them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched.

"Got lost!" he mouthed, looking panic-stricken and a little shocked at the appearance of Cyrano. "Fleur and Krum are coming now!"

Feeling enormously relieved, Cyrano watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her upward and out of sight.

Cyrano looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting short, and according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour...

Fleur was mere minutes after Cedric; she swam passed Cyrano and grabbed Gabrielle. She looked at Cyrano to with the same shock Cedric had, accompanied by some fear. She gestured to Cyrano to get moving, but he only waved it away.

Krum was only seconds after Fleur; he swam quickly by and took Morgan. It was impossible to tell if Viktor had also been surprised by Cyrano's form because his head had been transfigured into a shark.

Cyrano didn't waste any more time he grabbed Jonathan and aimed for the surface.

Author's Note: Bum, bum, bum ,bum, what will take place next chapter. Rate and comment.


	13. Deals

Author's Note: This chapter will finish off the second task; I'm not exactly sure what else will happen.

The swim upwards was just as dark as the dive down; Cyrano could hardly see three feet in head of himself.

Cyrano had Jonathan by his robes and was dragging him upwards. The water slowed the progress, but it was no worries to Cyrano. He didn't even have to worry about the effects of the scale wearying off until he was fully out of the lake.

Merpeople were following his ascending path which he found rather annoying, but he supposed it was to make sure he made it to the surface. Five minutes passed and then the light from the surface could be seen. When Cyrano broke the surface a loud cheer went up.

_Obviously they aren't looking close enough at me_, Cyrano thought. Jonathan had woken up as soon as he had hit the surface, now he was staring around looking confused. Cyrano started to guide him to the platform.

Cyrano was taking in his surroundings. He could see Krum and Morgan climbing up onto the platform, Cedric and Cho were standing wrapped in towels and bathrobes, and there was a man and Fleur's friends talking to Dumbledore, rapidly. Cyrano guessed the man was Fleur's father. Then it hit him, Fleur wasn't anywhere to be seem, or the little girl that was no doubt her sister. She had started up before him.

"Jonathan, do you think you can manage from here," Cyrano asked his friend in his transformed voice. Jonathan glanced at Cyrano, obviously just becoming aware of what he looked like. He looked as though he wanted to ask, but thought better of it, for the time being.

"Yeah, but aren't we both supposed to return to the platform," Jonathan asked.

"Fleur went up before me, but she hasn't returned, I want to make sure nothing's happened to her," Cyrano told him as he pushed of from his friend and swam back out to where he had resurfaced. He could hear people issue sounds of surprise and he could feel fingers pointing, either they had noticed what he looked like or they were surprised at what he was doing.

He dove back under the water, back into the gloom. He swam back down the direct path that he took up. The merpeople were circling around him, confused at him being back. He stretched out with his senses. He was searching for a disturbance. He found one twenty meters to his left and ten meters below. He darted in that direction.

He saw a mass of grindylows circling something, or two something's. One was the little girl who was just floating there, asleep and unaware. The other was Fleur, who was doing her best to fend of the small horned demons. The bubble that had encompassed her head had now disappeared; Cyrano could see that with every second her energy was draining, she would soon pass out from lack of air.

Cyrano kicked towards them, pulling out his wand. The grindylows were too busy to notice his approach.

"_Deprimo_."

The spell caused several grindylows to be forced downwards, they screeched in pain. Cyrano was sure if the noise could have been heard over the creatures, he would have heard bones snapping. The flock of grindylows now had focused on him. They swarmed him hissing and trying to get a hold on him. Cyrano made his own hissing sound, rather serpent like.

They tried pulling him down, but his size was too large and his scales to sleek, so they started gouging skin where ever the scales didn't cover.

"_Immobulus_."

The grindylows limbs froze and Cyrano started pushing them away from him. It was a good thing he had come prepared. He searched around for Fleur and her sister. He found that they had sunk ten more feet. Fleur had finally gone limp and Cyrano started to feel panic rise inside of him.

He aimed his wand at both figures, "_Ascendio_."

They started to rise in the water and Cyrano followed, he was trying his best to make them ascend faster. Once more he could see the light of the surface; he grabbed both Gabrielle and Fleur around the waist. The weight slowed him down considerably. They broke the surface and he could hear gasps from the crowd.

Fleur's sister had woken up and was looking around confused and then she saw Cyrano and let out a small terrified scream. Next she saw Fleur and saw she was unconscious.

"Fleur," she exclaimed.

"Can you swim," asked Cyrano. Gabrielle nodded her head," good I need you to do that so I can get your sister back on land, okay?"

Another nod and she started kicking making slow progress back to the platform. Cyrano swam past her, his mind was focused on Fleur, who was still limp. He was afraid he was to late.

"Fleur!"

It was the man he had guessed to be Fleur's father. Apparently, unlike the crowd, he was taking no notice in the form his daughter's rescuer had taken. Cyrano lifted her up onto the platform. Cyrano followed suit, his form starting to change as soon as he was out of the lake.

People were started to crowd and Mr. Delacour looked as though he was about to lose it.

"Step back," Cyrano said with his gravelly voice which was returning to normal. He rushed forward and knelt next to Fleur pulling out his wand. _Please, don't let it be too late_, Cyrano thought. Cyrano was dimly aware that everything had gone quiet.

"_Anapneo_."

Water gushed out of Fleur's mouth, her airway being cleared. When it was finished, Cyrano felt for a heartbeat. Nothing.

He did the only other thing he could think of, he started to preform CPR. You may wonder how Cyrano learned CPR, but when you leave out on the streets, you learn it. Mr. Delacour was watching the whole thing with desperation. It only took a few breaths and some major chest pumping before Fleur started to cough.

Another cheer went up for Cyrano, who was focused on Fleur. Her emotions that had been present during the attack were still there, so she began flailing and kicking. She became aware that she wasn't under water anymore and stopped her movement. Her eyes locked onto her sister, then her father, the people surrounding her, and finally the person standing over her.

"You owe me you realize," Cyrano said with a smirk as Fleur's sapphire eyes fell onto him. She threw her arms around him, she didn't want to let go of him. But her sister and father were both anxious to make sure she was alright.

Cyrano backed away and suddenly felt how tired he was, the event of the task and really exhausted him.

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

Madam Pompfrey pulled him away from the crowd and threw a towel around him; she led him to where the other champions were being held. Fleur seeing him again threw her arms around him.

"Zank you," she said in his ear. Cyrano was surprised to find that he was blushing at the contact. Then he was pulled away and found that it was Fleur's father that was smiling at him.

"I must zank you for saving my daughter, both of zem in fact," the French man said. He was only slightly taller than Cyrano; he had grey hair which matched his grey goatee. He had brown eyes, so it was obvious that Fleur inherited her eyes from her mother.

"I was just doing the right thing…..eh, Mr. Delacour," Cyrano said, he wasn't exactly sure how to address him.

"Call me Alan," Mr. Delacour said, "what amazed me most was zat you risked helping another champion when you could have left them to fend on their own."

"Sir, if you've been keeping track, you know that I am an unauthorized champion. I told myself that I would try to help the others in winning rather than try to win myself," Cyrano frowned.

"Zat is what makes you so special," Alan said, "Fleur has written letters about you, for Gabrielle's sake. She talks about the things she has witnessed around you. You are a special sort of person."

Cyrano didn't know what to say, he wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a statement. He also was surprised to find that Fleur had written back to her family about him. He was spared to answer anything though because the judges started awarding points.

Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet, "**_Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows_**. . . ."

"**_Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows after retrieving her hostage and failed to make it to the surface. We award her twenty-five points_**."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"**_Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked bay an Arias, and was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour_**." Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Cyrano smirked at Cedric when he glanced in his direction, "**_We therefore award him forty-seven points_**."

A loud roar rose above the stands; Cyrano couldn't help, but join in.

"**_Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, he fended off a Bagiennik with a well-cast Curse of the Bogies, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points_**."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior. There were hints of laughter when people heard that Krum had used the Curse of the Bogies.

"**_Cyrano Odion used, which was a huge surprise to most of us, a scale of an Aqua Draconian to great effect_**," Bagman continued. "**_He returned third and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Odion was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own_**."

"**_He also returned to the lakes depth when a fellow champion had failed to return. Most of the judges_**," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "**_feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Odion's score is forty-five points_**."

He was now tying for first place with Cedric. Cyrano was trying to figure out how every time he attempted to fall behind the other champions he only ended up neck and neck with one of them. Everyone was clapping hard for him, Fleur, Morgan, Jonathan, even Krum was politely clapping.

"**_The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June_**," continued Bagman, "**_The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions_**."

Madam Pompfrey started to herd the champions up to the school so they could get dressed into dry clothes, and so she could fuss over Fleur. In the Hospital Wing, Fleur introduced her sister, Gabrielle was quite shy at first, probably still scared at his form from the lake. She soon warmed up to him though, and was chattering in French. Cyrano didn't understand a word she was saying. He looked skeptically at Fleur, who laughed and said something to her sister in French. Again he was pulled away from everyone else by Mr. Delacour.

"I must ask you Mr. Odion," Alan Delacour started, "if you would join me for a meal one time?"

"Why," Cyrano asked suspiciously.

"Why else, I have heard so many zings about you. I find you a very interesting," Delacour stated, "not to mention I want to find some way to repay you for saving the life's of my daughter's."

"Sir, I think really only Fleur's life was endanger," Cyrano told him.

"No matter, you still saved one of ze members of my family and zat does not go unnoticed."

"Ah… sure…why not. When do you want to do this," Cyrano asked.

"Next week, on Tuesday, I will have to talk with Dumbledore first, but I zink it will be fine," Mr. Delacour told him. Cyrano had found it to be one of the strangest conversations he had ever had. When he asked the twins, not bothering Fleur with it, they couldn't identify what Mr. Delacour had in mind either.

The week leading up to that day was full of people wanting a recount on the task, from the champions and hostages. The hostages couldn't provide much, but Cyrano shared what had happened, people gaped at him in awe as he told them the story. He found it really annoying, Jonathan often disappeared when people started questioning him; he wasn't often given that much attention.

Fleur had been forced to stay in the hospital Wing the one night, but returned to her usual schedule. Cyrano noticed she would follow him around more often then she used to, he supposed she was just thankful for being saved and wanted to repay the debt by watching his back for him. He also noticed that his own emotions had changed; his heart would leap every time he saw her. He didn't know what to make of it.

On the Tuesday that he was supposed to be meeting with Mr. Delacour, he found himself alone with Fleur walking out on the grounds. They were joking and laughing, Cyrano was having a good time. Then Fleur asked a question he couldn't answer.

"Cyrano?"

"Yes?"

"What are you," Fleur asked with a calm, but shaky voice. Cyrano froze; he couldn't very well tell her the truth.

"I don't know what—"

"Don't tell me zat," Fleur said, "I have been watching; you have more zan human blood."

"How do you know," Cyrano asked his head bent, they were standing near the Black Lake despite the task that had just taken place.

"First, when you fought ze Horntail, you changed for the briefest amount of time. I zink I was the only one to see it because of what I am. Zen, every time you and Jonathan disappear for the full moon your eyes are foggy, but ze are clear for a day after you return," Fleur had been paying close attention to his eyes apparently, "after you saved me your eyes were clear as well."

"Are you telling me you think I'm part draconian," Cyrano asked.

"Non, that would be absurd, they have been gone for centuries, but I zink that it invoked the transformation such as it would if you would transform into anything else."

Well, it was good that she didn't suspect him of being draconian; unfortunately, she still knew he could change his form.

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you. Dumbledore asked me to swear never to reveal it unless necessary," Cyrano lied; it had been him who had Dumbledore sworn to secrecy.

"You don't trust me?"

"No, it's not that," Cyrano exclaimed, he could see she was trying to use the guilt trip to get him to spill, "it's just that…."

He wasn't quite sure what to say, "Look, it's just easier if it stays a secret right now, okay?"

Fleur's sapphire eyes were piercing his, it seemed like she was trying to get the answer out of them. She finally gave in, "Fine."

"Thank you, I promise one day you'll know though," Cyrano said, knowing very well that day would never come because she would return to Beauxbatons. The thought of it actually saddened him. Fleur excused herself and Cyrano continued his walk.

He didn't sense Mr. Delacour's approach until he was five feet away.

"Are you ready," he asked Cyrano when he turned around to face the French man.

"As ready as I ever am," Cyrano replied, Alan smiled.

* * *

The boy was remarkable; Alan wasn't quite sure what to make of him. He acted like any other teenage boy, cocky, but it was with respect.

Alan had told his wife all about the encounter with the young man; she was amazed to hear what he done. He didn't even explain to what else he had seen, mostly because it was a little terrifying. When Cyrano had looked him in the eyes, he was still transforming back into a regular boy. Alan Delacour had noticed that his eyes had remained the same all the way up to the castle, pupils that were slit and ice-blue eyes that faded into grey at the edge.

Then there were the accounts his daughter had given him. During days of the month he would disappear with his eyes clouded and when he reappeared they were clear. He had started to want to learn more about Merlin's Heir.

He had made arrangements with Dumbledore so he could speak with the boy. The headmaster was uneasy at first; Alan did not blame him with what had happened with the boy, but he finally agreed. He was going to bring him to his own estate, it would be safe there and Apolline wanted to meet the young man.

Alan led Cyrano to the gates of Hogwarts; during the walk they stayed silent. Alan stopped him once on the other side of the winged boars on top of the Hogwarts gate.

"'Old on to my arm," Mr. Delacour told him offering his limb.

"Why," the boy was looking nervous, which was strange because from what he heard from his daughter, the boy was usually confident.

"Just 'old on," the boy grasped the elder man's arm, "now turn."

They both turned and they disapparited. They left behind Hogwarts and appeared behind a mansion not far from the see. Though boy wasn't taking the sight in, he was bending over gaging.

"Ze sensation of apparition is a little unsettling for ze first couple of times, but you get used to eet," Alan told Cyrano while patting him on the back.

"I think I'll stick to brooms," Cyrano said finally gaining control of his esophagus. Mr. Delacour chuckled.

"Oui, it is a lot better, but apparition is faster," Alan said, "come, let me show you my house."

Cyrano stared in wonderment at the mansion as the approached it.

"Where do you work, sir," Cyrano asked.

"I work at ze French Ministry, I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement," Mr. Delacour said with a dismissing wave, "but do not focus zat much on formality, Mr. Odion, like I said last week, call me Alan."

They entered the house through the patio door, which led into and elegant dining room. Alan led Cyrano through this room and went into a living place. His wife was sitting in a chair near the fireplace reading a book. She looked up to see them; a smile broke onto her face.

"This must be Cyrano Odion," she placed down her book and got up to cross the room, "I must thank you for saving your daughter. My name is Apolline Delacour."

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am," Cyrano bowed, when he straightened he had a frown, "but as I told your husband it was the right thing to do."

"Oui, eet was and in zat tournament not many would 'ave done what you did," Alan watched as his wife pulled the boy into a hug, he looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Right," said Cyrano, his eyes glancing from one place to the next.

"So, well we wait for dinner to be finished, why don't we sit," Alan said, gesturing for Cyrano to sit in the chair by the fire. When he did so, Mr. Delacour and his wife sat in the couch across from it, "Cyrano why don't you tell us what you like to do."

"Well, I play quidditch," Cyrano said nervously.

"Really," Alan said, "what position?"

"Beater," said Cyrano, some of his confidence was returning.

"'Ave you 'ad any major injuries," Apolline asked.

"I've had a broken arm that…," Cyrano explained some of his experiences of pain on the quidditch pitch. He told them of his encounter with the rogue Bludger controlled by Dobby. He also recounted the time he took a Bludger to the chest for the first time. He was finishing telling them about the time the year before when the Dementors had entered the quidditch pitch.

"Did it ever 'appen again," Alan asked with a startled look on his face, the boy had seen quite a few things.

"No, but….," Cyrano smirked as if he was remembering something, "there was the match after that, which some Slytherin students tried to scare me. They had made it look like they were Dementors and it worked, but they weren't suspecting me to cast a patronus and—"

"You can cast a patronus," Alan asked, he was a little shocked at what he was hearing.

"Yeah, I learned it from my DADA teacher last year, I asked him because the Dementors affected me more than others. Of course, I should have asked him about when my patronus took form of a—"

"You can perform a Corporeal Patronus," Alan was growing more shocked with every moment, "show me."

"Okay," said Cyrano he was looking a little skeptical. He pulled out his wand and stopped for a second. Then he raised his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_."

A blue-white figure jumped from the boy's wand and then it took form. It was a dragon of about two feet tall.

"Zat is amazing, I've never seen a wizard preform that spell at such a young age," Mr. Delacour got up to inspect the patronus, "nor 'ave I seen anyone with a dragon patronus one either.'

"That would be my connection with Merlin," Cyrano scratched the back of his neck, the blue-white dragon evaporated. Alan glanced at his wife; she had the same shocked expression. One of their house-elves hurried into the room and told him dinner was ready, he told the house elf to get Gabrielle.

"Dinner's ready," he announced and the adjourned into the dining room. When Gabrielle saw Cyrano she started to chatter in French, the boy smirked at her. She sat next to him through dinner.

"Cyrano I 'ave a question for you," Apolline asked.

"What is that," asked Cyrano.

"Your hand, why do you-"

Cyrano interrupted her, "I'm sorry, but I've already shared that with Fleur and I'd rather not explain it again. Just ask Fleur, she'll probably tell you everything."

"I'll do that."

Alan hadn't spoken since the beginning; he let his wife carry on the conversation. He wanted to ask Cyrano something, but wasn't sure how to bring it up. He finally decided it would probably just be easier to get it out.

"Cyrano, I was amazed with your performance at the second task," Alan started trying to lower Cyrano's defenses.

"Thank you…eh, Alan," Cyrano attempted to do as the older man had asked.

"I must ask how did you get the scale?"

"Well," Cyrano shifted uncomfortable in his chair, Alan could see that the boy's hands were sweating, "it's too hard to explain. Let's just say a very old friend had it on hand waiting for an opportune moment."

Alan frowned; he was good at getting around the truth, "Then you were lucky."

"Yes sir, very lucky," Cyrano picked up the knife in front of him and started to eat the meat that was in laid before him.

"You look like your familiar with a body like that," Alan saw the boys eyes freeze on his plate.

"No, the magic just makes you understand it better, that way you're not making mistakes with your hands or feet," Cyrano countered. Alan knew it would be nearly impossible to get the answer out of him, so he let the subject drop. Instead he asked him about some of his classes.

The conversation continued until the end of dinner. When the plates were clean, house-elves came to clear away the dishes. The Delacour's and Cyrano made way for the living room once more. That was when an idea hit Mr. Delacour.

"I'll be there in a moment," he told his wife and Cyrano, Gabrielle had disappeared. He went to the kitchen and asked the house-elves for the knife Cyrano had been using. He went over to a candle and held the silver knife in the light.

The print was normal, it had loops, but when Alan studied the knife closer he could see that something had chafed the knife handle. Small gouges where present along the handle as if several things had scraped the length of the knife at once. It was where Cyrano's palm had come into contact with it.

He pocketed the knife. He went to the cupboard and grabbed some glasses and a bottle of wine. He entered the living room again to find them sitting in complete silence and it was quite uncomfortable.

"Thought you'd like something to drink," Alan said holding up the bottle.

"Uh, I'm only fourteen," said Cyrano, looking a little confused.

"And you are 'ere in my 'ome being offered a drink, it would be impolite to accept the 'osts offer," Alan told him as he filled the glasses he had brought with him. He offered one to Cyrano, who took it politely.

"Now down to why you're 'ere," Alan said after taking a drink of wine from his glass, "you 'ave saved my daughter's life and I'm bent on repaying you."

"I don't really know what to tell you," Cyrano said looking into his glass, "I've never really wanted anything. I spent four years of my life looking for things that I needed, it's made me see that I really don't want anything."

Alan was slightly curious, but a look from his wife told him that she had already had breached the topic and the boy was not bent on sharing.

"You sure you don't 'ave something you've always wanted," Mr. Delacour asked, "Young people always want something."

"Really, I don't know that feeling," the boy was still looking at his glass.

"'Ere let me help," Alan said leaning forward, "I am Head of the Magical Law Enforcement of the French government, what you want doesn't have to be an item."

"Like what," Cyrano asked looking at the elder man.

"Like a document, or if you would like to talk with someone," Alan told him. He could see the boys mind turning now, there were things that he wanted, but they weren't gained by money.

"There is something I want, well, two things. The first is a touchy one," Cyrano said, "something touchy for the British Ministry."

"And what is that," Alan asked, curious to know.

"I'll only say this, you might want to look back into Sirius Black," this had surprised Mr. Delacour. What did the boy want that deals with a mass murderer.

"I don't understand ze—"

"Just go and look at his file, then send me an owl when you've done so, I'll explain then," Cyrano was staring with unwavering eyes.

"Okay," was all that Alan said, he said he would do what the boy wanted, "what is ze second zing?"

"There is a document, a really old one. It was laid down back in Ancient Rome, I want to know exactly what happened with it," Cyrano told the older man his eyes full of excitement.

"And exactly what document is zat," Alan asked.

"Well, actually it's a law, but I assume it was written down," the boy had become nervous again, "it has to deal with, ah….draconians."

Alan smiled, he knew exactly what law the boy was talking about and he believed he knew why Cyrano wanted it.

"You're wondering if eet was ever abolished," Alan smirked as he saw the boy shift with nervousness.

"Well….yes," the boy finally said quietly.

"I'll look into both for you," Mr. Delacour said, he wanted it to trail from the conversation before he surprised the boy. Alan stood and stepped in front of the fire place," but I must say you were really doing well before you mentioned the document."

He took out the knife and held it out to the boy. Cyrano took it and Alan saw the boy's eyes become wide when he saw the scratches he had made on the silver knife. Cyrano went to his feet quickly, panic in his eyes.

Author's Note: Well, Mr. Delacour knows now what Cyrano is and soon Mrs. Delacour will know as well. I really have no idea as to why they get to learn it, just did it that way. Rate and Comment


	14. Padfoot

Author's Note: Starts off from last chapter, back in Cyrano's point of view.

_Damn, how could I be so careless_, thought Cyrano. He jumped to his feet. He let the knife drop to the floor.

"Don't be alarmed, Cyrano," Mr. Delacour said taking a careful step backwards.

"What are you two talking about," Apolline looked alarmed, but neither answered him.

"When did you know," Cyrano asked his voice calm, but dangerous sounding.

"I only just discovered, but I was suspicious when you came out of the lake after the second task," Alan Delacour said with the same calm voice as Cyrano's only not as dangerous sounding. Cyrano finally realized that he was exhausted; he sighed and sat back down, taking a drink from the wine he had been given.

"I don't understand what you two are talking about," Apolline interjected again, she was standing just behind her husband.

"Let me explain then," Cyrano said looking straight at the woman, he saw were Fleur got a lot of her aspects, "I told Fleur that I was able to speak draconian so well because of Merlin, who was a Dragon Keeper. However, I left out that Dragon Keepers don't just gain the ability to speak the language, they must study it like any other language."

"What does that have to do with zis," Apolline gestured to both Cyrano and her husband.

"Because I didn't study Draconian, I was born with the ability to speak it," Cyrano explained, "can you think of any reason that I would be able to speak a language long since died out."

"I can only zink of one and zat would be…..oh," Mrs. Delacour's face went blank.

"Yes, I'm part Draconian. I inherited it from a long since dead ancestor," Cyrano said taking another drink from the wine.

"I'm guessing you don't want zis piece of information getting out," Alan asked.

Cyrano shook his head, "No, not until I release it at least."

"Who all knows?"

"Well, Dumbledore, obviously, then there's my best friend Jonathan Blaxton, he knows because he was there to see me change for the first time," Cyrano said, " then there's Ignatius, close friend, too hard to explain right know and there is one other, but I can't very well tell you who because you wouldn't believe me if I did. Well, you know as well now to."

"I'm guessing your scales did ze job on my knife?"

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that, when I get nervous sometimes I'll start to change, but I can suppress it enough so you can't see it. Well, and I have to suppress some other…..let's not go into that right now."

Besides the Delacours learning about his unique circumstance, the event went pretty well. Mr. Delacour returned Cyrano at Hogwarts after 7 o'clock and when he finally found Jonathan and Morgan, he told them what Mr. Delacour had wanted, he left out the part about them figuring out what he was because of Morgan, he would tell Jonathan later though.

"You going to tell Sirius on Saturday," Jonathan asked, Morgan had left to look something up in the library, leaving him and Jonathan alone to talk.

"What are you talking about," Cyrano said, he wasn't following his friends train of thought.

"Sirius, on Saturday, he told you to get him the next Hogsmeade date don't you remember?"

"Oh, yeah, no. I'm not going to tell him, not yet at least," said Cyrano, keeping his voice low "It's not like I don't trust him, but I want to tell him somewhere where I know it won't get out. Besides Morgan will be there, can't trust her with something like this."

On Friday morning Archimedes returned with another short message from Cyrano's godfather.

_Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can._

"He's in Hogsmeade," Morgan whispered incredulously.

"Apparently," Jonathan said.

"I just hope he's not stupid enough to show himself," Cyrano exclaimed just s surprised.

"Cyrano, he's been running for the past several months, I don't think he's about to show himself," said Jonathan. They had to shut up after that because Fleur and her lot joined them at the Gryffindor table. The bad bit of having to wait through the rest of the day meant Cyrano had to deal with the worst class of the day, double potions, though he did feel considerably better knowing he would see Sirius in a day.

As he made his way to the dungeons of the Potion's class, Cyrano realized there was a good many eyes on him. He couldn't place it, but he could tell that something was out in the air about him. He knew it was pretty bad when he made it to the dungeons and Sandon had an ugly grin on his face, in his hands was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Look who it is, friend of all, Cyrano Odion," Nicodemus said loudly, "I've just read an interesting article that you and your _friend _might find it amusing."

Cyrano didn't like how Sandon emphasized 'friend' nor did he like it when Sandon's eyes went to Jonathan as he said it. He took the Prophet from Sandon just as Snape beckoned them into the dungeon. Cyrano and the twins found their seats and they took a look at the article

Friend of All

By Rita Skeeter

Besides a friend of a half-giant, Cyrano Odion as accumulated friendships of other half-breeds. As I've asked around, I've been informed that he also speaks very highly of Remus Lupin, ex-professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts School. It is also known that he is a werewolf.

Disturbing news also tells me that there is yet another werewolf that he spends his time with, a fellow student that he accompanies on the nights of a full moon. Jonathan Blaxton, a fourth year and close friend of Cyrano, acquired the disease during last summer when a party of werewolves stayed at Hogwarts, using the Forbidden Forest as their sanctuary.

One, such as I, can only wonder why the Heir of Merlin has taken interest in such company. I'm doing all my readers a big favor looking into this and I will continue to as well.

It was short and pretty much straight forward, if you could catch the second meaning behind it. Skeeter had to messages in the article, he could be dangerous because of the types of friends he kept, also he might be getting chummy with half-bred folk because he had similarities, meaning he was one as well. Cyrano could be sure if she actually knew, but Fleur had put one and one together so why couldn't a nosy reporter do the same. Thankfully the other students didn't take much care of paying attention to either message, they were too interested in the fact that Jonathan was a werewolf.

Cyrano glanced at Jonathan; he was just as pale as he did after the last full moon. It would be the worst for him because he was directly mentioned, but there would be those who would read past the words on the page.

"Nathan, listen, don't think about it. Dumbledore will defend you," Cyrano said reassuringly to his friend.

"But what about when—"

"Eh, eh, none of that, you knew very well that your identity would come out at some point," Cyrano interrupted, he lowered his voice, "besides, think of how bad it will be when they figure out what I am."

"You have a point, but right now I'm in the spotlight," Jonathan whispered back.

"Listen to me Nathan," Morgan said, "avoid the Slytherins; don't get into any fights with them."

"But—"

"Yeah, and don't answer any letters unless it's from someone real close like family or a teacher you know you can trust," Cyrano added, "and even though most of the school will be avoiding you or giving you glances that could wrinkle parchment, remember, we'll always be there and so will Dumbledore."

"I'm sure your lives are so very interesting," a cold voice said behind them, "but I would take care in not to be sharing it in class, Ten points from Gryffindor."

Cyrano let the paper slip under the table hoping Snape hadn't caught a glimpse of it; fortune was not in his favor.

"Ah, reading the Prophet in class, another ten points from Gryffindor," Snape sneered as he flicked his wand and the paper flew to him, "but of course, you must keep up with your press bits."

Snape looked at the paper then back at Cyrano.

"My, my, Mr. Odion the company you keep, just like your father," Snape said, his eyes moving over Jonathan, who was turning paler every second.

"My father was a good man and the men he was friends with were a lot better than the company you kept, sir," Cyrano had been close to saying 'Snape' instead of 'sir', but he saved himself before he slipped.

"Is that so, if I recall one of your father's 'friends' betrayed him to the Dark Lord," Snape sneered, Slytherin laughter echoed throughout the dungeon. Cyrano was on his feet staring Snape right in the eyes.

"We both know which one betrayed him, but it is neither of the ones you just insulted," Cyrano said with a low, dangerous voice. Snape glowered at him.

"Sit down Odion before I have to remove more points from Gryffindor," the professor turned away and went to stand in front.

"Don't let him get to you Cyrano that's just what he wants," Morgan whispered.

"Did I not just say to stop your chattering," Snape snapped, pointing to an empty seat near the front he said, "Odion move up here and you Jonathan take the seat behind Mr. Sandon, if I can't stop you from talking I'll just make it more difficult for you to do so."

Reluctantly, Cyrano grabbed his book bag and cauldron and moved himself to the seat Snape had gestured to. He began to work quietly on his potion wishing that Snape would accidently mess up on one of his potions in the future. Ten minutes through the class period a knock came at the dungeon door.

"Enter," said Snape. The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. Cyrano hearing was strong enough to catch what Karkaroff was saying.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

Cyrano kept his eyes on his potion, but kept his mind on the two men nearly five meters from him. Karkaroff wasn't looking to well, he looked as if he was about to crack. Snape was doing his best to avoid looking at him.

When the bell rang, Cyrano was hoping it would take some time for the students to clear out and that Snape and Karkaroff would start their conversation when they thought people were distracted, that didn't happen. Cyrano moved with the crowd, but when he reached the door he had an idea. When everyone was far enough not to notice his absence, he leaned his head against the door and strained his ears.

"What's so urgent," he heard Snape's voice hiss.

"This," Karkaroff's voice came. Cyrano couldn't see through the door, but if he could, he would bet he would see Karkaroff showing Snape something.

"Well," Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious, "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since - "

"Put it away," Snape snarled

"But you must have noticed—, "Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.

"Of course I've noticed, but it is not safe to talk here," Snape said. Cyrano heard footsteps approaching; he quickly backed away into the archway shadows just as Snape exited the dungeon. He hurried by with Karkaroff tailing him; they didn't seem to spot Cyrano.

"Severus, you can't keep running from me, I'll corner you eventually," Karkaroff called as he followed the potions professor. Cyrano rushed off to find Jonathan and Morgan to tell them what he had just witnessed.

They left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, all three of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders. The food Sirius had told them to bring was in Cyrano's bag; they had sneaked a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice from the lunch table.

They waited with Fleur and her friends at the Three Broomsticks until half past one, then they excused themselves and they made their way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.

Cyrano had never cared to venture down this far in the village. The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar...

"Hello, Padfoot," Cyrano said as they approached his godfather.

The black dog sniffed Cyrano's bag eagerly, wagged its tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Cyrano and the twins climbed over the stile and followed.

Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan were soon out of breath. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All three of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed Morgan to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. Cyrano, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather.

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken," he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

Cyrano pulled the bag of food off of his shoulder and handed it over.

"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth, "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."

He grinned at Cyrano, who didn't return it.

"What're you doing here, Sirius. No offense, I'm just a little curious to as why you returned. Here," he said.

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way, "Don't worry about it; I'm pretending to be a lovable stray."

He was still grinning, but seeing Cyrano's serious expression, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter . . . well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Jonathan picked them up and unfolded them. Cyrano half glanced at them, but kept his attention on Sirius.

"Haven't done anything to jeopardize your safety, have you?"

"You three and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.

"Cy, look at these," said Jonathan, handing over both of the papers. The first bore the headline _Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch_, the second, _Ministry Witch Still Missing-Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved_.

Phrases popped out from the pages at Cyrano: hasn't been seen in public since November...house appears deserted... St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment...Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness...

"Do you have a clue to what's wrong with him," Cyrano asked, glancing at Sirius.

"No clue, thought you might know," Sirius said to busy gnawing on another chicken leg.

"They're making it sound like he's dying, mind you, he did look ill last time I saw him up close," Cyrano said looking back at the Prophet," the night my name came out of the goblet..."

"Probably couldn't take care of himself, his house elf, Winky, likely did all that for him. After he sacked her…"

"Crouch sacked his house-elf," Sirius asked interestedly.

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," said Cyrano, he briefly explained the events the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Cyrano's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. When Cyrano had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg, "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," said Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Cyrano "I think he said he'd been too busy."

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, "Cyrano, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"No," he said finally, "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars. Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"The only thing we know though is that Winky had the wand," said Morgan, taking a look at the Prophets as well.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace. "Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," said Cyrano, "Some Bulgarian ministers ...Cornelius Fudge...the Sandons..."

"Anyone else?" said Sirius.

"No one," said Cyrano.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Morgan reminded him.

"Oh yeah . . ."

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," said Cyrano "he keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now," said Sirius, frowning more deeply, "I wonder why he'd do that?"

"Says he's taken a liking to me," Cyrano said.

"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful.

"We did see him in the forest, right before the Dark Mark appeared," Jonathan told Cyrano and Morgan.

"You can't be serious; you're actually suggesting Ludo could be behind Cyrano's name in the Goblet of Fire. That's—," Morgan started, but Cyrano interrupted.

"Quite possible."

"What?"

"Well, think of it, if the person who put my name in the Goblet wanted me dead, they would have made sure it happened already," said Cyrano, "only other possibility is that they want me to get through the tournament, Ludo has offered me help. If he got me to accept, I'm sure I would have gotten through the other tasks easily—"

Sirius held up a hand to silence Cyrano.

"I'm not saying it isn't a possibility, but it's unlikely," he said, he reverted back to Crouch, "When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Cyrano's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," answered Cyrano, "but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, "of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf... and then he sacked her?"

Everyone went silent. Sirius ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's ... he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too. . . . It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"D'you know Crouch, then," asked Morgan.

Cyrano cringed inwardly, he had asked about his godfather's convictions during the summer. Sirius had told him that he never got a trial; he also told him who had been the one who had ordered it.

"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly, "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban…without a trial."

"Oh," Morgan exclaimed and then went silent.

"Really," Jonathan said.

"Yep," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

The twins shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius, "He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry."

"Never a Voldemort supporter, of course," he said, reading the look on the twin's faces, "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side...well, you wouldn't understand...you're too young..."

Cyrano snorted, "Really, try me."

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face.

"All right, I'll try you. . . ." He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing . . . the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere...panic...confusion...that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemorts supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the Dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened. Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"He's own son," Morgan said quietly.

"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while...gotten to know his own son."

He began to wolf down large pieces of bread.

"Was his son a Death Eater," Jonathan asked.

"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread, "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters – but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off," Jonathan asked, sounding like he was afraid to ask.

Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

"Crouch let his son off? Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy...then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the Dementors," asked Cyrano quietly, he was a bit mortified at the idea.

"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now, "I saw the Dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though...they all went quiet in the end...except when they shrieked in their sleep..."

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So he's still in Azkaban," Morgan asked.

"No," said Sirius dully, "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in, but enough about that. Cy, there are some things I wanted to ask you."

"Look, Sirius, I can't tell you anything. Yet," Cyrano said, glancing at Jonathan.

"Why, I'm your godfather, don't you trust me."

"No, I mean, of course I do, it's just that…," Cyrano really had no idea what to say. He couldn't tell him in front of Morgan and he didn't really know how to tell Sirius at the moment, "I just need some time to work it out."

Sirius looked at him for a moment, "Okay, but I will get the answer one day."

"Only right," Cyrano said, "but I have news, it's about you."

"What could it be," Sirius grinned.

"I have someone looking into your case," Cyrano told him.

"Who and why?"

"It's a little hard to explain who, but the reason for it is so you can get a trial to prove your innocence," said Cyrano.

"Cy, who are you getting to do this," Sirius asked forcefully.

"Um….well…"

"Cy?"

"The French Had of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement , Alan Delacour."

"The Beauxbatons champion's father, why," Sirius asked looking startled.

"I saved Fleur's life he's trying to repay me."

"Two questions," said Sirius, looking confused, "One, you haven't told him why he's looking into this, right?"

"He knows nothing," Cyrano told Sirius, "I told him to look back into your case and that was all."

"Second, why did you save her?"

"Because it was the right thing to do and because she helped me with the egg," said Cyrano.

"Yes, but you're supposed to be trying to win this—,"

"No, no, I'm supposed to be trying to survive this thing," Cyrano interrupted, he was grinning though. Despite his godfather's worrying, he probably thought it would be amazing if Cyrano won it, "what about the last article?"

Through all of the recent discussion, all four of them had forgotten about the other paper.

"Bertha Jorkins, no idea. I thought maybe one of you had heard anything from Bagman or something."

"Bagman told us they hadn't," said Jonathan, seeing Cyrano's confused look, he added, "we, me and Morgan, asked about it when he was looking for you before the second task.

Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper, "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic...maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.

"What's the time?"

"It's half past three," said Jonathan, checking his watch.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet, looking hard at Cyrano "Now listen...I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"Sirius, I think if I was attacked I could take care of myself," Cyrano said, a little irritated at Sirius for thinking he could be powerless to defend himself.

"I don't care . . . I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

He handed Cyrano the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye.

"I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper."

He transformed into the great black dog before they left the cave, and they walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of them to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. The trio made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

They walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Jonathan, with some amusement, "He must really like you. Cy...Imagine having to live off rats."

Author's Note: Another chapter done, yada, yada ,yada. Rate and Comment


	15. Pensieve

Author's Note: Again another chapter on the way to the end.

It was Monday morning and they were at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Morgan, Fleur, Veronique were talking, well Jonathan and Christelle was doing the same. Cyrano wasn't paying much attention to anything, until he heard an owl shriek and Jonathan looked up eagerly.

"What are you waiting for," Cyrano asked curiously.

"Well, since we have no clue as to what's wrong with Crouch, I thought keeping a look at the paper might prove useful. Plus learning everything from the Slytherins gets a bit drawl, don't you think," Jonathan said scanning the sky.

"I guess it would be a change," Cyrano shrugged, "and it looks like you might just be in for a little luck…"

A grey owl descended towards them.

"No, it's not carrying the Prophet," Jonathan said, "It's—"

But to his bewilderment, the grey owl landed in front of his plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"Wonder what this is all—"

"Don't," both Cyrano and Fleur exclaimed at the same time. Cyrano had gotten a bad feeling about the letters when seven owls had landed. He guessed that Fleur had seen something like this before.

"What," Jonathan asked looking between the two.

"Just don't open them," Cyrano told him, staring at the closest one. He drew his wand and whipped it through the air.

"_Evanesco_."

The letters disappeared without a trace, all, except for one. The front address was in black ink and was in fine penmanship, Cyrano didn't have a clue to as to who had sent it. Jonathan stretched his hand out and clutched the parchment envelope. He slowly opened the seal and pulled out one sheet of parchment and rad it. His face went paper whit a soon as he began to read it. He cleared his throat.

"It's…from the Ministry, more precisely the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Jonathan said, "They want me to come in and register my…condition."

Cyrano's stomach did a flip, "You better go see Dumbledore, I don't know if he can do anything about it, but he's the best shot you've got."

Jonathan left his seat and exited the Great Hall, Cyrano half-glanced at Fleur, who was doing the same. When breakfast was finished Cyrano and Morgan went down to Care of Magical Creatures class.

Hagrid, who had told them last lesson that they had finished with unicorns, was waiting for them outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. Cyrano's heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another skrewt hatching? But when he got near enough to see inside, he found himself looking at a number of flurry black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around, "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff. . . . There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Nicodemus Sandon's watch off his wrist. He shrieked like a girl and jumped backward. Everyone except Sandon found I funny, his blush deeper than the red of a sunset.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily, "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth Cyrano had watched him digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, and get ready ter set 'em loose."

Cyrano took off his watch, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he picked up a niffler. It put its long snout in Cyrano's ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

"Hang on," said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare niffler here ... who's missin? Where's Jonathan?"

"He had to go to see Dumbledore," said Morgan.

"We'll explain later," Cyrano muttered; Sandon was a little too close for comfort.

It was easily the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Irwin's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled his lap with coins.

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid," he asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.

"Yer aunt wouldn' be happy, Irwin," said Hagrid, grinning, "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Well, let's check how yeh've done! Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Irwin's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Cyrano and Morgan stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes. Cyrano noticed Madame Maxime watching them out other carriage window.

"Why did Jonathan have ter go see Dumbledore," said Hagrid, looking concerned.

"He got a letter from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures asking him to go in and register himself as a werewolf," Cyrano told Hagrid glumly as he wrestled with a niffler which apparently knew it was going back into a crate, "well, and he got a lot of hate mail, but I made sure he didn't open any of it."

"Well, I don' know what ter say about the Ministry, but he shouldn' worry about the hate letters," Hagrid said, his concern still evident, "I got some o' those letters an' all, after Rita Skeeter wrote about me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you' d jump in a lake.'"

"Really," asked Morgan, sounding like the last thing she would do was threaten Hagrid.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall, "They're jus' nutters. If he gets any more, make sure he dosen' open 'em, he's got enough ter worry about. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."

"I just hope Nathan's okay," Morgan said as they headed back up to the castle, "he's usually closed to people, he's never had so many people angry at him and scared of him. Who knows how he'll take it?"

"He'll be fine; just as long as he doesn't read any of the letters," Cyrano huffed as they reached the entrance hall. Jonathan showed up after dinner. He told them that Dumbledore couldn't do anything about because it was the law, but he did go along with Jonathan to the Ministry. Jonathan said that he was asked about how he had become a werewolf and his name and stuff that they deemed important. The interrogator, as Jonathan described her, was squat, curly, mouse-brown hair and had an evil smile on her face the whole time. Jonathan couldn't remember her name, but said he never wanted to meet her again.

Hate mail continued to arrive for Jonathan over the following week, and although Cyrano followed Hagrid's advice and stopped his friend from opening the letters, several of his ill-wishers sent Howlers, though Cyrano managed to incinerate them before they exploded.

"It'll die down, though," he told Jonathan, "if we just ignore it. ... People got

bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time."

"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds," said Jonathan angrily. He had become very obsessed with trying to figure out how the news reporter had gotten on Hogwarts ground. Jonathan hung back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave; Moody had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Cyrano had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak," Jonathan panted five minutes later, catching up with Cyrano and Morgan in the entrance hall and pulling Cyrano's hand away from one of his wiggling ears so that he could hear him, "Moody says he hasn't her running around the grounds!"

"Nathan, is there any point in telling you to drop this," asked Morgan.

"No," said Jonathan stubbornly, "I want to know how she heard about me being…well, a werewolf! And how she found out about Hagrids mum!"

"I'd suggest that she bugged you, but I find that highly unlikely as I've never known a witch using electronics unless necessary," said Cyrano.

"Bugged," said Morgan frowned, "What. . . put fleas on her or something?"

Cyrano started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Morgan, who didn't know that much about the muggle world, was fascinated, but Jonathan interrupted them.

"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History^"

"What's the point," said Morgan grinning, "You know it by heart, we can just ask you."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be. ... If I could just find out what it is ... ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her ..."

"Haven't we got enough to worry about," Morgan asked her brother, "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

"I'm not asking you to help," Jonathan shrugged, "I'll do it on my own."

He turned and walked back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Cyrano was quite sure Jonathan was going to the library.

"You should have been a little easier on him, he's going through a lot," Cyrano told Morgan.

Cyrano, however, did not ask Cyrano and Morgan to help him pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which they were both grateful, because their workload was mounting ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. Cyrano frankly marveled at the fact that his best friend could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. He was working flat-out just to get through all their homework, though he made a point of sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountain for Sirius; after last summer, Cyrano had not forgotten what it felt like to be continually hungry. He enclosed notes to Sirius, telling him that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Cyrano got a letter from Mr. Delacour finally, it was relatively short. It was tied to a leg of a screech owl.

**_Cyrano Odion_**

_As you requested, I pulled out the things you were asking me about. The first one I think I should give to you in person, we could talk more on the matter than. The one that refers to Sirius Black I'm still rather confused on though. I went and looked through it as you asked, but I caught nothing that didn't seem right or that contradicted his crimes. You said when I sent you an owl you would tell me more. If you could do that now it would be most helpful._

**_Alan Delacour_**

"Do you have a quill," Cyrano asked quickly glancing at Jonathan. He handed Cyrano a quill. Flipping over Alan's letter, Cyrano jotted down an answer.

**_Alan Delacour_**

_I wished you would just send the document as I just want to look over it, but I guess it wouldn't hurt. We'll likely see each other right before the last task. As for the matter of Sirius Black, there are a few things that I must tell you. The first is that Sirius is my godfather. The second is that he is innocent; he had no chance to explain this however, because he never got a trial. You should notice now that I told you. What I want you to do is to see if you can't get my godfather a trail. I'll explain more when we meet next._

**_Cyrano Odion_**

When he finished he attached the letter back onto the screech owl. He watched it as it flew out of the Great Hall.

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Cyrano was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn't know what he would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back in Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock, Odion," she told him, "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task." So at half past eight that night. Cyrano left Jonathan and Morgan in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be," he asked Cyrano as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night, "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"You think you've been the only one hearing her rant on about it, but that wouldn't be too bad," admitted Cyrano, thinking that he would simply ask Hagrid for a niffler to do the job for him. They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.

"What've they done to it," Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges," said Cyrano, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there," called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Cyrano and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Cyrano as he came nearer. Since the day he had met with Sirius he couldn't help, but wonder if Bagman was really the one who put Cyrano's name into the goblet. _I'll have to watch my footing in the last task_, Cyrano thought.

"Well, what d'you think," said Bagman happily as Cyrano and Cedric climbed over the last hedge, "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less than- happy expressions on Cyrano's and Cedric's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Krum.

"That's right!" said Bagman, "A maze. The third task's really very straight forward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze," said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures . . . then there will be spells that must be broken ... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Cyrano and Cedric, "Then Mr. Krum will enter . . . then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Cyrano, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, he nodded politely like the other champions.

"Very well. . . if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly. ..."

Bagman hurried alongside Cyrano as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Cyrano had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again. Cyrano wasn't sure what he was going to say to Bagman, but didn't have to worry because Fleur pulled him by the arm and they started towards the Beauxbatons carriage.

"I want to talk with you, Cy," she said as they made their way down the slope to Hagrid's Hut.

"Yeah, as I if didn't get that,' Cyrano said with sarcasm, it made her smile however. He said more seriously, " about what?"

"Ze next task," Fleur said casually as the ground began to level out. A candle light flickered in Hagrid's home and the giant flying horses were doing their own business.

"There's not much to say about it, we haven't even gone through it yet," said Cyrano. He looked over at Fleur. She looked Cyrano thought, rather beautiful in the moon light. He shook his head. _Where in Hell's name did that come from_, he thought.

"I think It would be right I you were the one to get to ze cup," Fleur said slow and cautiously. Cyrano snorted.

"That's the last thing I want, believe me," he told Fleur. They were not far from the carriage now and their walking had stopped ue to the conversation.

"Why is zat," Fleur asked, looking mildly curious. Cyrano couldn't blame her, as it had been stated, most people would give anything for a chance like this.

"It doesn't matter, the thing is-"

Cyrano stopped mid-sentence, he sensed someone nearby.

"What is it," Fleur asked quietly.

"I don't know," was all he said as he moved closer to the out cropping of trees of the Forbidden Forest. He slipped his hand inside his robes, reaching for his wand.

Suddenly a man staggered out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Cyrano didn't recognize him . . . then he realized it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see. He reminded Cyrano vividly of quite a few of the people he had seen well living on the streets. Lot of them too had been conversing wildly with thin air; they had gone insane, never to return from the dark recess of their minds. Crouch look like he had done the same.

"Isn't zat one of ze Judges," Fleur asked just as quietly as before as she move up with Cyrano, "I zought he was sick?"

"Apparently not, or perhaps so, in this case," Cyrano said as he closed the distance between himself and Bartemius Crouch, who was talking to the oak tree he had stumbled out from behind of.

"... and when you've done that, Hadden, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve. . . ."

"Mr. Crouch," said Cyrano cautiously.

"... and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen ... do that, Hadden, will you? Will you? Will..." Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch," Cyrano said loudly, "Are you all right?"

Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. Cyrano looked around at Fleur, who had followed him into the trees, and was looking down at Crouch in alarm.

"What is wrong with 'im?"

"No idea," Cyrano muttered, "Listen, you'd better go and get someone -"

"Dumbledore," gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and seized a handful of Cyrano's robes, dragging him closer, though his eyes were staring over Cyrano's head. Cyrano couldn't believe the strength of Mr. Crouch, "I need... see ... Dumbledore. ..."

"Okay," said Cyrano, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the-"

"I've done . . . stupid . . . thing . . ." Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort, "Must. . . tell. . . Dumbledore . . ."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Cyrano loudly and clearly, "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"

Mr. Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto Cyrano.

"Who ... you," he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," said Cyrano, his mind had left everything else behind as he listened to every word Crouch had to say.

"You're not... his," whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.

"No," said Cyrano, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about, but wishing he did.

"Dumbledore's?"

"That's right," said Cyrano.

Crouch was pulling him closer; Cyrano tried to loosen Crouch's grip on his robes, but it was too powerful.

"Warn ... Dumbledore ..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Cyrano, "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and

I'll get him.. . ."

"Thank you, Hadden, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."

Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Cyrano was there, however, his hand was still firmly grasping Cyrano's robes. He did the only thing he thought was going to work. He hosted himself and Crouch of the ground. Mr. crouch slumped lightly on Cyrano's figure. Cyrano looked at Fleur.

"Want to help me," he asked. Fleur rushed forward an got her arm under Crouch's unoccupied side.

"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.S, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response. ..."

Crouch continued to rabble on as they started to head for the castle.

"We'll have to take him straight to Dumbledore," Cyrano told Fleur. There was no answer, but he was sure Fleur had no problem with this. They were probably half-way up the hill when Cyrano felt eyes on them. It was coming from the direction of the place they had just let. Of course, it could just be an animal that had happened to find itself in the same general vicinity, but animals can't cast very accurate spells.

Cyrano sensed it before it was twenty feet from them.

"Duck," Cyrano yelled as he pulled Crouch and Fleur own to the ground. Cyrano caught a glimpse of a familiar red stunning spell as it flew over them. Cyrano head spun around, he looked down at the area the spell ha come from. It was too dark to see anything well, but Cyrano caught a glimpse of something moving and it looked to be moving towards them.

"Up," Cyrano bellowed. Fleur and Cyrano lifted Crouch up and the started to run as fast and as well as they possibly could. It was very difficult, for Crouch had to be dragged as he was completely unaware to the events taking place.

Cyrano sensed that they were still quite a ways away from their attacker, but the gap in-between was filling. Another well place spell was cast, just as they were coming upon the doors, less than ten meters away. The spell, another stunner, managed to find Fleur in the back and she hit the ground hard. Cyrano cursed and spun around. He freed himself from his burden and raised his drawn wand. The figure's outline could just be seen, but before it got any closer to Cyrano, it turned and fled. Cyrano turned back to see if Fleur was all right. She was out cold and Crouch was in no better shape to help him Carry Fleur. But he didn't have to worry because fifteen seconds after the departure of the mysterious attacker, the oak doors of the entrance hall opened an Dumbledore stepped out on to the grounds. He hurried forwards as he saw Cyrano crouching over the two figures of Fleur and Crouch.

Dumbledore crouched down next to Fleur and inspected her. He opened her eyelids and muttered a few phrases of some spell. Apparently finding nothing wrong he moved onto Crouch, which he took a little more time on. Cyrano had become aware that the effects Crouch had were from the extended period of being under the Imperius Curse. It looked very sever. Apparently Dumbledore thought so to because he frowned. He stood back up an whipped out his wand.

"_Locomotor_."

Fleur raised into the air a few feet, Dumbledore did the same to Crouch.

"Talk to me as we walk, Cyrano," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, sir."

As they walked through the empty corridors of the castle, Cyrano told Dumbledore everything. How Crouch had stumbled out of the woods, the few things Cyrano had actually been able to make sense of, and the one moment when Crouch had seemed to gain control of himself. Cyrano thanked whatever power that was above that Dumbledore hadn't asked about why he was near the forest in the first place, especially with another champion.

They fell silent as their journey continued. When they made it to the Hospital wing, Dumbledore called a somewhat baffled Madam Pompfrey . The headmaster explained briefly as to what happened and the nurse instantly set to work on Fleur and Crouch. Dumbledore turned to leave and gestured for Cyrano to follow him. It continued to be silent all the way up to the headmaster's office and Dumbledore did not talk until Cyrano was sitting in front of his desk. Before Dumbledore sat down at the desk himself, he said something quietly to one of the portraits and the occupant to off.

"Cyrano, are you sure you didn't see a face," Dumbledore asked as he sat down. Cyrano shook his head, the same question had been asked several times on their way to the hospital wing. Dumbledore sighed.

"Sir," Cyrano ventured.

"Yes, Cyrano," Dumbledore asked looking straight at him.

"Is Crouch going to be alright, I mean, we've studied the effects of the Imperius Curse in class, sir, you know that," Cyrano said. He felt something he had not for a long time; fear, from the deepest recess of his mind.

"It is hard to tell just now I'm afraid. Who knows how long he was under the Imperius Curse. I'm afraid to say that Mr. Crouch will probably be moved to a permanent ward in St. Mungo's," Dumbledore told him with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, "yet, you said he seemed to gain control of himself. That gives a tiny spark of hope that he may be able to recover.

"Will you be able to get memories from him," Cyrano asked. He had heard of memory extraction before, but he didn't how they were viewed, or stored.

"Possibly, but again, I am uncertain. His mind might be too disheveled for him to focus; we might never gain anything from him worth knowing."

"Out of curiosity, sir, how do you view a memory," Cyrano asked maybe he could learn something useful for his future. It was at that question that Dumbledore beamed at him.

"Instead of telling you, why don't I show you," Dumbledore got out of his chair and went to a black cabinet just to the left of his desk. He opened the cabinet door, the room immediately filled with silvery light. Dumbledore reached in and pulled something out. He turned around and Cyrano saw what he was holding. He held a shallow stone basin; it had odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Cyrano did not recognize.

When Dumbledore set the basin down on the desk, Cyrano saw its contents for the first time. He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid - or like wind made solid - Cyrano couldn't make up his mind. He wanted to touch it, to find out what it felt like, but nearly four years' experience of the magical world told him that sticking his hand into a bowl full of some unknown substance was a very stupid thing to do.

So instead he asked, "What is it?"

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore, "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"So this is how they view memories at the Ministry," Cyrano said, still wondering how it exactly works.

"Yes, though the cases lined up for it are usually so many that they have to decide which are more important. See a Pensieve is old magic, few still remain from the old days and those that have correctly been made in more recent times are so few as well. It is extremely difficult to make such an item," Dumbledore said as he pulled out his wand, "I received mine some years ago well traveling into Northern Europe. Would you like to see how it works?"

"Er…sure why not," Cyrano said uncertainly. Dumbledore raised his wand and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it - but then Cyrano saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve.

The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. He looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which he seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit; he thought it might even be underground, for there were no windows, merely torches in brackets such as the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. Lowering his face so that his nose was a mere inch away from the glassy substance, Cyrano saw that rows and rows of witches and wizards were seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. An empty chair stood in the very center of the room. There was something about the chair that gave Cyrano an ominous feeling. Chains encircled the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.

Where was this place? It surely wasn't Hogwarts; he had never seen a room like that here in the castle. Moreover, the crowd in the mysterious room at the bottom of the basin was comprised of adults, and Cyrano knew there were not nearly that many teachers at Hogwarts. They seemed, he thought, to be waiting for something; even though he could only see the tops of their hats, all of their faces seemed to be pointing in one direction, and none of them were talking to one another.

Cyrano raised his face to Dumbledore. He gave a gesture for Cyrano to submerge his head into the substance. Cyrano took a deep breath, not knowing what was going to happen, and lowered his face into the silvery substance.

Author's Note: So I've changed it some more as well. I tell you now, just to remind myself to put in the next story, Crouch is sent to a ward in St' Mungo's. Rate and Comment. Whoop dee doo.


	16. Memories

Author's Note: Continuing on from last chapter…

Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch – Cyrano was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin - But his head did not hit the stone bottom. He was falling through something icy cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool -

And suddenly, Cyrano found himself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. He looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which he had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone. Breathing hard and fast. Cyrano looked around him. Not one of the witches and wizards in the room (and there were at least two hundred of them) was looking at him. Not one of them seemed to have noticed that a fourteen-year-old boy had just dropped from the ceiling into their midst. Cyrano turned to the wizard next to him on the bench to find that he was sitting right next to Albus Dumbledore.

"Sir," he asked leaning towards Dumbledore, "how did we get here?"

"It's part of the magic, now sit quiet and watch," a voice came from his left, causing Cyrano to jump. He spun around on the bench to see Dumbledore sitting next to him. His gazed jumped back to the Dumbledore on his right. There wasn't any difference between the two men, except for the robes they wore. He was now aware that no one in the room had seen them enter, confirming that they were now in a memory.

Cyrano looked around more carefully. The room, as he had suspected when observing it from above, was almost certainly underground - more of a dungeon than a room, he thought. There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; just these serried rows of benches, rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of that chair with the chains on its arms.

Before Cyrano could reach any conclusions about the place in which they were, he heard footsteps. The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and three people entered - or at least one man, flanked by two Dementors.

This had taken him by surprise as he could normally fell their presence from a good distance away. He jumped to his feet and raised his wand, but the real Dumbledore grabbed his arm and shoved him back onto the bench.

"There not real Cyrano, just a memory from my past," Dumbledore told him quietly, as though the other people in the room could actually see them. Cyrano's mind focused back onto the scene. The Dementors were gliding slowly toward the chair in the center of the room, each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and Cyrano couldn't blame him ... he knew the Dementors could not touch him inside a memory, but he remembered their power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the Dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.

Cyrano looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.

Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Cyrano watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.

"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to Cyrano's left. Cyrano looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him. Crouch's hair was dark, his face was much less lined, he looked fit and alert. Very different from when he last seen him, "You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."

Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.

"I have, sir," he said, and although his voice was very scared, Cyrano could still hear the familiar unctuous note in it, "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I….. I know that the Ministry is trying to….to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can..."

There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Cyrano heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."

Cyrano leaned forward so that he could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there - except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones. Both were looking down upon Karkaroff, and both were narrowed in intense dislike.

"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore, "He's one a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the Dementors."

Both Dumbledores, the real and the memory, made a small noise of dissent through their long, crooked noses.

"Ah, I was forgetting . . . you don't like the Dementors, do you, Albus," said Moody with a sardonic smile.

"No," said the memory Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."

"But for filth like this . . ." Moody said softly.

"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr. Crouch, "Let us hear them, please."

"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named operated always in the greatest secrecy. . . . He preferred that we, I mean to say, his supporters ,and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them -"

"Get on with it," sneered Moody.

"- we never knew the names of every one of our fellows. He alone knew exactly who we all were -"

"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in," muttered Moody.

"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr. Crouch.

"I - I do," said Karkaroff breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely -"

"These names are?" said Mr. Crouch sharply.

Karkaroff drew a deep breath.

"There was Antonin Dolohov," he said. "I….I saw him torture countless Muggles and….and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."

"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.

"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch, "He was caught shortly after yourself."

"Indeed," said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I… I am delighted to hear it!"

But he didn't look it. Cyrano could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless.

"Any others," said Crouch coldly.

"Why, yes ... there was Rosier," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "Evan Rosier."

"Rosier is dead," said Crouch, "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."

"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to Crano's right. Cyrano looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.

"No…. no more than Rosier deserved," said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now. Cyrano could see that he was starting to worry that none of hi information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the Dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.

"Any more," said Crouch.

"Yes," said Karkaroff, "There was Travers, he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber, he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"

Cyrano could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.

"Rookwood," said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment, "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly, "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information -"

"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch, "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide -"

"Not yet," cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate, "Wait, I have more!"

Cyrano could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.

"Snape," he shouted, "Severus Snape!"

"Snape has been cleared by this council," said Crouch disdainfully, "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."

"No," shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

The memory Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.

"I have given evidence already on this matter," he said calmly, "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."

Cyrano turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody. He was wearing a look of deep skepticism behind memory Dumbledore's back.

"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime. ..."

Mr. Crouch's voice faded. Cyrano looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; he could see only his own body - all else was swirling darkness….

"Don't worry," the real Dumbledore told him, "just moving on to the next memory."

And then, the dungeon returned. Cyrano was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: relaxed, even cheerful. The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Cyrano noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter. Cyrano looked around; both Dumbledores were sitting beside him again, the memory one wearing different robes. Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, gaunter. . . . Cyrano understood. It was a different memory, a different day ... a different trial.

The door in the corner opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room. This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.

"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters," said Mr. Crouch, "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"

Cyrano became more interested b the reason to as why Ludo was here. Perhaps he would learn something of him.

"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well, I know I've been a bit of an idiot -"

One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently. Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.

"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Cyrano. He looked around and saw Moody sitting there again, "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain. ..."

"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr. Crouch, "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -"

But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch.

"But I've told you, I had no idea," Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening, "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's…never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on ... once my Quidditch days are over, you know... I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"

There were titters from the crowd.

"It will be put to the vote," said Mr. Crouch coldly, He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands . . . those in favor of imprisonment..."

Cyrano looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up.

"Yes," barked Crouch.

"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch said breathlessly.

Mr. Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.

"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at memory Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed. . . . The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry. . . ."

And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, Cyrano looked around. He and both Dumbledores were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands.

Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face.

"Bring them in," he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.

The door in the corner opened yet again. Six Dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. Cyrano saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another. The Dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," he said clearly, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous -"

"Father," said the boy with the straw-colored hair, "Father . . . please . . ."

"- that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.

"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror - Frank Longbottom - and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -"

"Father, I didn't," shrieked the boy in chains below, "I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the Dementors -"

"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury -"

"Mother," screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward, "Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream.

"No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him," The Dementors were gliding back into the room.

The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"

But the boy was trying to fight off the Dementors, even though Cyrano could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle.

"I'm your son," he screamed up at Crouch, "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine," bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly, "I have no son!"

The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.

"Take them away," Crouch roared at the Dementors, spit flying from his mouth, "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"

"I think, Cyrano, it is time to return to my office," said a Dumbledore quietly in Cyrano's ear.

"Come," said the Dumbledore on his left, and he put his hand under Cyrano's elbow. Cyrano felt himself rising into the air; the dungeon dissolved around him; for a moment, all was blackness, and then he felt as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's sunlit office. The stone basin was shimmering on the desk in front of him, and Dumbledore was standing behind the desk.

He sat down, as did Cyrano, and said, "At that is a Pensieve."

"So it shows you any memory," asked Cyrano staring at the stone basin, his mind working fast.

"Any memory that you possess, yes," Dumbledore confirmed.

"Sir, if you ever wanted to, say, clear someone's name of a crime, couldn't you just show them, the memory at the time of the incident?"

"You'd find that the Ministry would come up with a dozen ways to say that the memory is a fake or a lie," Dumbledore said, smiling, "Memories can be altered, Cyrano, and the memory only shows what the person who observed the event saw. So as far as anyone is concerned, a person who might have taken polyjuice potion, looks like the person they want to frame, or whatever motive they have. No Cyrano, your godfather's predicament will have to be solved other ways. Though from what I hear you have that covered."

"I don't know what your talking—"

"You are not Sirius's only correspondent," said Dumbledore, "I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay. Again, though I must say as Pensieve is not the way."

Cyrano was slightly down casted, true it had been a long shot, but it would have been easy to prove Sirius's innocence with the Pensieve. The substance swirled and started to change, Cyrano saw his own face change smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

"It's coming back . . . Karkaroff's too . . . stronger and clearer than ever..."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed, "but never mind." Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure raised out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Cyrano or Professor Dumbledore. When she spoke, her voice echoed, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin.

"He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday. . . ."

"But why? Bertha," said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, "why did you have to follow him in the first place?"

"Bertha," Cyrano whispered, looking up at her, "Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more, "That was Bertha as I remember her at school."

The silvery light from the Pensieve illuminated Dumbledore's face, and it struck Cyrano suddenly how very old he was looking. He knew, of course, that Dumbledore was getting on in years, but somehow he never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man.

"Sir? Do _you_ have idea to as who attacked us," Cyrano asked, his graveled voice seemed to make the air of the room heavier. He wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore did know. He seemed to know a lot that he never shared with Cyrano, especially stuff about his past and future.

"If I did, Dementors would already be here scourging the grounds and castle," Dumbledore said his face still as stone, "No, whoever that was knows what they're doing and will not be found anytime soon."

"Do you know why we were attacked?"

"My guess is whoever attacked you had put the Imperius Curse on Mr. Crouch. Mr. Crouch probably managed to fight off the curse at times, obviously damaging his mind well doing so, and came straight here," Dumbledore explained to Cyrano. A expression crossed the headmaster's face, something like he had forgotten something, "Cyrano, you said Mr. Crouch had something to tell me, did he tell you what or what the subject was about?"

"Sorry, sir, like I said and you saw, he wasn't in his right mind everything besides those few seconds he was talking gibberish," Cyrano said truthfully sorry that he could not provide Dumbledore with any information.

"Professor, may I ask what happened to the couple they were talking about in the last memory," Cyrano asked nervously.

"You mean the Longbottoms, yes, I believe you could."

"They are insane," said Dumbledore, his voice full of a bitterness Cyrano had never heard there before, " They are both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe they have a son in the Ministry who visits them on the holidays. They do not recognize him."

Cyrano couldn't imagine living a life were your own parent's didn't even recognize you. Cyrano thought he rather be the one to go insane.

"Er,"Cyrano said after sometime of silence, "Mr. Bagman..."

"... has never been accused of any Dark activity since," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Right," said Cyrano hastily, staring at the contents of the Pensieve again, which were swirling more slowly now that Dumbledore had stopped adding thoughts.

"And ... er ..."

But the Pensieve seemed to be asking his question for him.

Snape's face was swimming on the surface again. Dumbledore glanced down into it, and then up at Cyrano.

"No more has Professor Snape," he said.

Cyrano looked into Dumbledore's light blue eyes, and the thing he really wanted to know spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"

Dumbledore held Cyrano's stormy gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Cyrano, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

He heard them coming along way from the office doors. Banging of doors could be heard echoing through the corridors. Cyrano couldn't tell who was coming, but he could hear the worry, outrage, frustration, and anger in the voices. Cyrano looked at Dumbledore who said, "I sent for Professor Moody to get Madame Maxime as one of her students were attacked and, clearly, had him send a letter to the Minister. Both seemed to have arrived, so I think we should end our meeting."

Cyrano stood up, and so did Dumbledore.

"Cyrano," he said as Cyrano reached the door, "Please, have extreme caution between now and the next task. Mr. Crouch's pursuer may have not attacked you directly, but know they were not a friend and would have likely killed you as much as they would have killed Mr. Crouch."

"Yes, Professor," said Cyrano, turning to go.

"And-"

Cyrano looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Cyrano for a moment, and then said, "Good luck with the third task."

Cyrano left the room and descended the stairs leading up to the office. He was only just stepping off of the staircase when several people burst into the corridor. The first one Cyrano saw was, as she was hardly easy to miss, Maxime, worry was etched into her olive skinned face. She was moving a bit fast and the other two people had to run to keep up with her great strides. The second was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, in his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat. He was huffing and puffing behind Maxime. The third was Alastor Moody who, despite his wooden leg, was close behind the other two. A clumping sound echoed down the corridor very time his foot hit the stone door.

Maxime slowed has her eyes fell on Cyrano, he could see surprise in her eyes, or maybe it was gratitude. She didn't say anything to him, however and passed by as she made way for the staircase to the Headmaster's office. Fudge on the other hand, opened his mouth as he slowed down to meet Cyrano.

"Cyrano," said Fudge jovially, moving forward, "How are you?"

"Fine," Cyrano answered more or less truthfully. He had not been hurt in anyway during the assault, but he was worried. And not just because that someone who had attempted murder was still on the grounds, but that he could be a possible target. The next task worried him as well, but he pushed that out of his mind.

"I was just informed at the Ministry that Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds. I dropped everything at that instance and came down here to find not only that Mr. Crouch was attacked, but you were to, as well as young Delacour," said Fudge, "It was you who found him, was it not?"

"Yes," said Cyrano, "he had been under the Imperius Curse for some time. When he stumbled out of the woods it was clear that his mind had had some serious damage done to it."

"Yes, well," said Fudge, looking embarrassed. Whether it was because a Ministry official had been under the Imperius curse without any knowledge of it reaching the Ministry, or because he was being told by a student that a Ministry official had been under the curse, Cyrano couldn't tell, "We were just going up to talk with Dumbledore, I think it would be best I you returned to your dormitory…"

He started to march off towards the staircase as well. Moody looked at Cyrano, "Watch your back, Odion."

He clumped away as well, and Cyrano continued down the corridor. He would have returned to the Hospital Wing to see how Fleur was doing if he hadn't known Pompfrey was going to kick him out the moment he got there. So instead he returned to the common room, where Jonathan and Morgan were waiting. They demanded to know what took him so long to return, Cyrano hadn't realized that it was nearing to one in the morning. He told them about Mr. Crouch and the attack, he even talked about what he saw in the Pensieve, he had no need to explain it because Jonathan readily knew what it was. After they went to bed, Cyrano sent a letter to Sirius explaining that events that just occurred.

Author's Note: As his chapter finishes, there is something to be explained. I kept the Longbottoms in for detail, but there will be no role for a character like Neville because I plan to change the prophecy. That is all that will be said on the matter. Rate and comment.


	17. Task Three

Author's Note: Returning for a new chapter.

_He was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower they flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in Cyrano's face, until they reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered. Now they were flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end . . . through the door they went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up..._

_Cyrano had left the owl's back... he was watching, now, as it fluttered across the room, into a chair with its back to him. . . . There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair . . . both of them were stirring. . . . One was a huge snake . . . the other was a man ... a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose ... he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug. . . ._

_"If I did not need you, Wormtail,I would kill you and let Nagini feast on your body" said a cold, high-pitched voice from the depths of the chair in which the owl had landed, "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder may have ruined everything. But with it being so close to the event I have no worries."_

_"My Lord," gasped the man on the floor, "My Lord, I am . . . so sorry. ..."_

_"Nagini," said the cold voice, "you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all... but never mind, never mind . . . there is still Cyrano Odion. ..."_

_The snake hissed. Cyrano could see its tongue fluttering._

_"Now, Wormtail," said the cold voice, "perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you. ..."_

_"My Lord ... no ... I beg you . . ."_

_The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointing at Wormtail._

_"Crucio," said the cold voice._

_Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body were on fire, the screaming filled Cyrano's ears as the scar on his hand and his head seared with pain; he was yelling too...Voldemort would hear him, would know he was there. . . ._

Cyrano woke up in cold sweat and panting. Apparently the dream hadn't been as bad as it seemed because no one was awake and Cyrano was sure if he had actually screamed the whole house would have woken. It was just a week before the two days before the third task and Cyrano had been feeling confident. With this new dream, he wondered if he should go to Dumbledore, but decided against it, he needed all the time he could get to practice spells. He got up when everyone else did and spoke of the dream to know one.

Morgan and Jonathan were supposed to be studying for their exams, which would finish on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Cyrano prepare.

"Don't worry about it," Jonathan said shortly when Cyrano pointed this out to them and said he didn't mind practicing on his own for a while, "at least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training, though, just in case," said Morgan excitedly, attempting the Impediment Curse on a wasp that had buzzed into the room and making it stop dead in midair.

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. The story of the attack had spread rather quickly through the school. Rita Skeeter attempted a story about Cyrano being dark and mysterious and making accusations of him, saying that he caused the damage on Crouches mind and stunning Fleur. But it was so farfetched that even the dimmest o minds could see right through it.

Fleur had entered the Great Hall the next morning. She said Pompfrey had waken her when Cyrano and Dumbledore left. Fleur said she was fine, but Pompfrey insisted she stayed the night. Fleur had no option, but to except. Fleur had asked what had happened after she had been stunned and Cyrano briefly explained the events that had occurred in Dumbledore's office, leaving out a few things that seemed minor. Fleur would have likely joined them for practicing spells, but Cyrano had a feeling that Maxime had wanted her training private, she and her friends had even stopped coming to breakfast, both to the twins disappointments, Jonathan because of Christelle and Morgan because she liked talking with them. So they rarely saw each other during the long weeks of practicing.

Besides Mr. Crouch being attacked everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Cyrano was practicing hexes at every available moment. He felt more confident about this task than either of the others. Difficult and dangerous though it would undoubtedly be, Cyrano had managed to find his way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before now, and this time he had some notice, some chance to prepare himself for what lay ahead.

Tired of walking in on Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan all over the school, Professor McGonagall had given them permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. Cyrano had soon mastered the Impediment Curse, a spell to slow down and obstruct attackers; the Reductor Curse, which would enable him to blast solid objects out of his way; and the Four-Point Spell, a useful discovery of Jonathan that would make his wand point due north, therefore enabling him to check whether he was going in the right direction within the maze. He had learned a lot of other things as well, there were a few higher level spells that he had attempted and had barely managed to cast them correctly. He was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though, despite its simplicity. This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around himself that deflected minor curses;Jonathan managed to shatter it with a well-placed Jelly-Legs Jinx, and Cyrano wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterward before he had looked up the counterjinx.

"You're still doing really well, though," Jonathan said encouragingly, looking down his list and crossing off those spells they had already learned. "Some of these are bound to come in handy."

"Come and look at this," said Morgan, who was standing by the window. She was staring down onto the grounds. "What's Sandon doing?"

Cyrano and Jonathan went to see. Sandon, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a tree below. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a lookout; both were smirking. Sandon was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.

"He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie," said Cyrano curiously.

"He can't be," said Jonathan, "I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, Cyrano," he added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, "let's try that Shield Charm again."

Sirius was sending daily owls now. Like Jonathan, he seemed to want to concentrate on getting Cyrano through the last task before they concerned themselves with anything else. He reminded Cyrano in every letter that whatever might be going on outside the walls of Hogwarts was not Cyrano's responsibility, nor was it within his power to influence it.

_If someone is actually targeting you_, he wrote, _my priority is to ensure your safety. They cannot hope to lay hands on you while you are under Dumbledore's protection, but all the same, take no risks: Concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters. _

Cyrano's nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, even worse than they had felt before the first and second tasks. He knew that anything unexpected could happen in the maze and he would have a slimmer chance to be saved than the last two tasks. However, he knew he had a better chance at surviving. For one thing, he was confident that, this time, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly he did, the tournament would at last be over, which would be an enormous relief.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, bringing Cyrano a good-luck card from Sirius. Fleur was there being it the day of the third task. She was slightly curious as to who the letter had come from. Cyrano failed to answer her question. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Cyrano appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Jonathan, carrying his morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. He unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page. He stared at it for a few minutes, turning the page every so often and then set the paper down.

"Nothing new," Cyrano asked half-way through his porridge.

"No," Jonathan answered bleakly, "the most exciting thing was an article about some person who was fined because of not reporting that he was an animagus, so nothing new."

Cyrano saw Morgan's facial expression change out of the corner of his eyes, but decided to ask about it later.

"So what exam do guys have today," Cyrano asked. Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Cyrano had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes," Jonathan said, he sounded rather bitter despite the fact that he hated to have any grade lower than an E on them; Jonathan directed to his sister "so we'd better get going."

They let the table and Cyrano and Fleur were left to sit alone. Several more people came to wish him luck. Rose was just finishing wishing him the best when McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table.

"Odion, Miss Delacour, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight," said Cyrano, he was hoping he hadn't gotten the time wrong. He glanced over at Fleur, whose expression was plain.

"I'm aware of that, Odion," she said, "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

She moved away. Cyrano knew that Kate and Miles would have come, as they were the only ones who were family to him. Sirius wouldn't risk his neck now that his godson was doing so much to help him. Cyrano thought that maybe he could squeeze in sometime to go see Ignatius before the tournament. He had been meaning to do it for weeks, but training had taken up a lot of his time. He and Fleur finished their breakfast and headed for the chamber. Cedric joined them when they were half-way across the Great Hall.

"So, how you guys feeling," Cedric asked mildly, his voice, however, gave away the fact that he felt slightly strained.

"I can't really say, I'll I know is that once you, Cedric, are holding the cup, I will feel quite relieved," Cyrano said. Cedric laughed at his comment.

"So you really think I'm going to win," Cedric asked, he turned to Fleur, "how about you?"

"I'm of ze same mind, it will be a relief when it's all done," Fleur said. Cyrano noticed she wasn't really paying attention. Cyrano suspected nerves, but then again he had been wrong about such things before. Cyrano noticed that Viktor was walking some ways behind him. He slowed down and waited for Krum to be a few feet behind.  
"How about you, Viktor, what do you think of the ending of the tournament," Cyrano could see a small amount of surprise in Viktor's eyes. Apparently, he wasn't often asked question of such matters. He didn't answer, Cyrano though he wasn't going to until they reached the door that would lead them into the chamber.

"I think that vhen this is over, one of us vill be holding that cup, but I hope that nothing vill have changed," Viktor said. He left it at that and they entered the chamber beyond. Cedric's parents were just inside the door. Viktor moved to greet his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his fathers hooked nose. Fleur's parent's and Gabrielle were on the other side of the room. Gabrielle was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Cyrano, who waved back, grinning. Fleur departed from Cyrano with one last look backwards and Cyrano went to greet the only family he had ever known.

"Surprise," Kate said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them, "Thought we'd come and watch you, Cy!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"You all right," said Miles, grinning at Cyrano and embraced him, "A friend of mine, Brian Anderson, one of the dragon keepers, said you were incredible against the Horntail. It seems you hide quite a bit even under the roof of my household."

"Yeah, there are lots of things you don't know," Cyrano muttered embarrassed about the comment. He kept a lot to himself so the Blaxton's knew next to nothing about Cyrano except or what they learned from the past four years. To change the subject, Cyrano added, "this is really nice of you, I hadn't really expected anyone to come…"

"Of course we'd come, were family," Kate exclaimed. Cyrano blushed; he still wasn't use to it. The eleven years on the street had made him hard. Cyrano noticed she had frowned at the mention of the Horntail, no doubt she still had

"It's great being back here," said Miles, looking around the chamber," Haven't seen this place for long time. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Cyrano, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady," Miles asked.

"She was here in our time," explained Kate, "She gave us such a telling off one night when we got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"Please, enough," Cyrano said, he didn't need any more information. Both adults chuckled.

"Fancy giving us a tour, Cyrano," said Miles.

"Yeah, okay," said Cyrano, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. A movement from nearby caught his eyes and Cyrano turned his eyes onto Mr. Delacour. He was motioning to Cyrano.

"Can you wait just a second," Cyrano said to the Blaxton's before walking quickly to Mr. Delacour. As Cyrano approached, Alan pulled something that looked like an envelope.

"It is good to see you, Cyrano, I wish you luck for tonight," Mr. Delacour smiled at Cyrano.

"Thanks," Cyrano said and then with a hushed voice asked, "do you have it?"

Mr. Delacour handed over the envelope, "I 'ad a look at it myself, out of curiosity, I can find no evidence zat it was dismissed or zat it continues to serve as a law. Perhaps, if you ask your Minister or someone who is familiar in ze laws zey can tell you about it."

Cyrano tucked the document safely in the pocket of his robes, "Thanks again."

"None is needed, you saved my daughter, and from what I hear you did again a couple of weeks ago," Alan Delacour stated.

"That I actually an overstatement, sir, actually if she hadn't been with me she probably wouldn't have been attacked," Cyrano said. Mr. Delacour didn't say anything to that.

"One more zing, I don't want to keep you long, but you said you would tell me a little more about your godfather," he asked. So Cyrano quickly told him all of what he knew about the night his parents died and Sirius's persecution.

"Zank you for ze information, like I said before, I might not be able to do much, but will see," Mr. Delacour said when Cyrano finished explaining.

"Well, I got to go, see you after the tournament," Cyrano said well he started back to the Blaxtons.

"Good-day, Cyrano."

Cyrano joined the Blaxtons again and they left the small chamber.

"Who was that," asked Kate, looking mildly confused.

"That's Fleur's father, he was asking me a couple questions that's all," Cyrano said and fell silent.

Cyrano had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Miles and Kate, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. Kate was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, which had been planted after she had left school, and reminisced at length about the gamekeeper before Hagrid, a man called Ogg.

"Who's looking after Nick," Cyrano asked. Nick was the Blaxton's youngest child, being only the age of two.

"My sister, Mabel," Miles answered, "she has always been good with children, which surprised us when she never had any of her own."

They returned to the castle for lunch.

"Mum – dad," said Morgan, looking surprised, as she joined the Gryffindor table," What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Cyrano in the last task," said Kate brightly, "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh . . . okay," said Morgan," Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," she said, helping herself to a Cornish pasty, while Kate looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

Jack and Blake came to sit next to them too, and Cyrano was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening's task. Jonathan turned up a little later explaining that he had been asking Binns about one of the questions on the exam.

Cyrano, Miles, and Kate whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Cyrano thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her. There were more courses than usual, but Cyrano, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Cyrano got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Blaxtons and Jack and Blake all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor. They didn't talk any on the way down to the quidditch pitch, the tension was too high. Bagman, however, seemed none too nervous by the coming task.

"Feeling all right, Cyrano" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds, "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Cyrano. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them all made him feel better.

They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions," If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then," said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck, Cy," Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "**_Sonorus_**," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"**_Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Cyrano Odion, both of Hogwarts School_**," The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky, "**_In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute_**," More applause," **_And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy_**!"

Cyrano could just make out Kate, Miles, Jonathan, and Morgan applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

"**_So ... on my whistle, Cyrano and Cedric_**," said Bagman," **Three - two - one -**"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Cyrano and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Cyrano felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, muttered, "_Lumos_," and heard Cedric do the same just behind him.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

"See you at the cup," Cyrano said grinning, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right.

"Not if I get there first," called Cedric.

Cyrano heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Krum had entered the maze. Cyrano sped up. His chosen path seemed completely deserted. He turned right, and hurried on, holding his wand high over his head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

Bagman's whistle blew in the distance for the third time. All of the champions were now inside.

Cedric had instantly felt like this place was alive. As he took each slow step forward he thought the maze was breathing, the hedges slightly rustled in a light breeze. Truthfully, he didn't care who got the cup, he just wanted out. He took a left and ended up at a dead end. He went back and went to the right instead.

Something moved on the path in-head of him, he couldn't quite tell what it was because the fog in the maze was too thick. Cedric took a few wary steps forward when a blast of streaming fire shot through the air and caught his sleeve, which burst into flames.

Cedric put it out by smacking his arm with his hand quickly and turned his attention to the thing that had shot the fire. It was one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended-Skrewts, it was ten feet long and it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. It scuttled forward, towards Cedric.

"_Everte Statum_."

The skrewt was lifted off its feet and landed ten meters away. Cedric had been hoping for the spell to slow the creature down a bit, but the skrewt was already making its way towards Cedric. He skirted to the side as the skrewt flew y, it was a tight fit as the spaces between the hedges weren't that big. Cedric took off down the passage. The skrewt was right behind him, Cedric jumped through a right hand passage and lost the skrewt as it charged by.

He then noticed that the passage was slightly lit and he spun around for the source of the light.

Fleur knew what she had to do. She had to find Cyrano and make sure he was the first one to the cup. It only seemed simple, someone was out to get him and he needed to show them that he could stand and defend himself. Not to mention she had come to realize what Cyrano meant to her. She had probably known since he had rescued her from the lake, or perhaps before then, she wasn't quite sure.

The maze was dark and fogged; she could hardly see ten feet out in front of her. She had seen neither hide nor hair of any of the other champions since entering. She had taken turns when she thought it was the right way and kept going straight when she thought not.

She was on edge, she was expecting something by now to have attacked, but then again you could never suspect something in the Triwizard Tournament. It was no more than ten minutes in before anything showed itself.

The creature that appeared was a type of serpent. It was nearly eight feet in lengths, the skin was grey and its underside had jewels encrusted on it. It had a tail with a wicked looking stinger. It's cold, blood red eyes held Fleur's blue ones. She recalled that the creature was called a Wyrm, similar to a dragon only it had no wings and could not breathe fire. Instead its stinger held a lethal poison, which could cause an elephant to drop in seconds after being stung.

She didn't react with any sudden movements; she froze instead to see if she could wait the thing out.

Cyrano kept looking behind him. The old feeling that he was being watched was upon him. His senses picked up no creatures nearby. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. He reached a second fork.

"Point Me," he whispered to his wand, holding it flat in his palm.

The wand spun around once and pointed toward his right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and he knew that he needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best he could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when Cyrano reached a right turn and took it, he again found his way unblocked. Cyrano didn't know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving him. Surely he should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring him into a false sense of security. Then he heard movement right behind him. He held out his wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Cedric, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side.

Cedric looked severely shaken. The sleeve of his robe was smoking.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts," he hissed. "They're enormous - I only just got away!"

He shook his head and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between himself and the skrewts, Cyrano hurried off again. Then, as he turned a corner, he saw ... a dementor gliding toward him. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly toward him. Cyrano could hear its rattling breath; he felt clammy coldness stealing over him, but knew what he had to do...

"_Expecto Patronum_."

A silver dragon erupted from the end of Cyrano's wand and flew toward the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes. . . . Cyrano had never seen a dementor stumble. He knew instantly what it was and shouted out the right spell that was required.

"_Riddikulus_."

There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver dragon clung onto the side of a hedge as it faded from sight. Cyrano began to feel confident at how well he was doing nothing could throw him off now.

He continued the long and enduring work through the maze several lead him to dead ends. He continued to have the feeling that someone was watching him. But when he tried to use his senses to figure out where it was he was left at a mental dead end. Suppose the maze was affecting his thoughts, making him think he was being watched, but then again he could very well be being watched.

When he found himself at another dead end he turned back and took another path. He found an odd golden mist floating ahead of him.

Cyrano approached it cautiously, pointing the wand's beam at it. This looked like some kind of enchantment. He wondered if he could make it vanish.

"_Evanesco_."

However, nothing happened. He frowned, if he couldn't make it disappear with a spell such as that, what could get rid of it. He was thinking it over when a scream shattered the silence. Cyrano knew it was Fleur's.

"Fleur," Cyrano yelled.

There was silence. He stared all around him. What had happened to her? Her scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. He took a deep breath and, without even thinking twice, ran through the enchanted mist.

His vision became upside-down for a complete second, then, when he had cleared the mist, his vision was once more right side up. He continued to without pause, looking back over his shoulder as he ran away from the golden mist, which twinkled innocently at him in the moonlight.

He paused at a junction of two paths and looked around for some sign of Fleur. He was sure it had been she who had screamed. What had she met? Was she all right? There was no sign of red sparks - did that mean she had got herself out of trouble, or was she in such trouble that she couldn't reach her wand? Cyrano took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease . . .

He turned a corner and saw a giant dragon-like creature standing over Fleur, who was struggling to get both hands free from the talons that held them. He felt panic, he had never heard, when he had first learned about Draconian, if Wyrms were affected by it. However he could think of no alternative.

"_Pok_," Cyrano yelled, letting the language ease over him. The Wyrm snapped its head around and focused its red eyes on Cyrano. He held the eyes knowing that it was a sign of rank among any dragon related creature, "_lpuul owrropoqui nishka oposs vhira shafaer wux sjek wux svent jacioniv!"_

The Wyrm let go of Fleur's hands and stepped away, but it didn't back down, Cyrano had become its new target. Fleur had crawled out of the way, not that there was anywhere to go; the hedges were too close together. Cyrano and the Wyrm didn't move, they both were trying to intimidate each other. Cyrano won though because the Wyrm charged him.

Cyrano tried stepping aside but, again, the hedges were to close and the Wyrm slammed into him. The impact sent Cyrano's wand out of his hand. Cyrano scrambled across the ground to get it, but a claw wrapped around his midsection and sent him flying again. He landed hard, but as far as he could tell he wasn't hurt severely. He got to his feet.

"Fleur," he yelled, she was still on the ground watching the event, "get my wand!"

She didn't do anything for a second then she shook her head and got to her feet and headed for his wand, which landed just behind the Wyrm. Cyrano moved towards it trying to keeps it attention off of Fleur. Cyrano caught a look the glint of something sharp through the air; he stepped aside just before the Wyrm's stinger landed a strike. Cyrano saw Fleur bend down and grab his wand, then something sliced it his leg. He grunted, the pain wasn't extreme, but that scared him, if he had been hit with the stinger. _No, I would have been dead long before I came up with the assumption_, Cyrano thought.

He turned to see the Wyrm coming in for the kill.  
"Cyrano," yelled Fleur, she tossed the wand and Cyrano just managed to get his fingers around the handle. The serpent was just about to strike again with its stinger.

"_Stupefy."_

It hit the creature square in the chest. The Wyrm stumbled and came to a stop. It wobbled on its feet a couple seconds longer before hitting the ground. Cyrano stood looked at the stunned Wyrm before moving around it. H approached Fleur, whose wide eyes were focused on the creature as well.

"You all right," he asked, deeply concerned.

"Oui, I'm fine, just a little shaken," she said averting her eyes and looked into Cyrano's.

"Let's go before it wakes up," Cyrano said breaking the connection. He started to go down the path that was in front of him.

After Cyrano and Fleur set out again it was a while before anything happened, Cyrano had to move slow because of his leg, which looked worse then it felt. They continued the path they had originally taken until it came to a dead end. Cyrano used Point Me and they backtracked. It continued to get darker. Cyrano couldn't tell because of the maze, but he was guessing it was sometime around eight-thirty. They turned down another path that was occupied by a skrewt, in a short struggle Cyrano caused the skrewt, using Impediment, to slow down. They left the passage quickly not wanting to deal with the creature.

They had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when they heard something in the path running parallel to their own that mad them stop dead.

"What are you doing," yelled Cedric's voice,"What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

And then Cyrano heard Krum's voice.

"_Crucio_."

The air was suddenly full of Cedric's yells. Cyrano began sprinting up the path, trying to find a way into Cedric's. When none appeared, he tried the Reductor Curse again. It wasn't very effective, but it burned a small hole in the hedge

"Fleur, help me," Cyrano said quickly with a hushed voice he didn't want them to be noticed quite yet. Cyrano and Fleur both fired at the hedge breaking more holes into it. Finally it was big enough for Cyrano to squeeze through. He struggled through it, tearing his robes, and looking to his right, saw Cedric jerking and twitching on the ground, Krum standing over him.

Cyrano wriggled the rest of the way through and then pulled out his wand and aimed it at Krum just as Krum looked up. Krum turned and began to run.

"_Stupefy_," Cyrano yelled. The spell hit Krum in the back; he stopped dead in his tracks, fell forward, and lay motionless, face down in the grass. Cyrano dashed over to Cedric as Fleur was pulling herself through the hole in the hedge. She approached as well once through.

""Ow is 'e,' Fleur asked knelling next to Cyrano, who was inspecting Cedric.

"Out cold," Cyrano said, he was slightly relieved that it hadn't been worse.

"What should we do," Fleur asked uncertainly looking around.

"Here, grab Krum," Cyrano told her, she obeyed. Once Krum was lying next to Cedric Cyrano pointed his wand into the sky and shot off red sparks. They flew high in the sky, far above were Cedric and Krum know lay.  
"Let's go before they come," Cyrano said his voice a little raspier than usual. He limped off in the direction they had been going, but kept going down the path they were now on.

"I can't believe this ... I thought he was all right," Cyrano said, after some time, referring to Krum.

"So did I," said Fleur. That was the only words they said for quite a bit longer. At a certain point Cyrano couldn't continue because of his leg, but Fleur only put her arm under his and forced him to continue.

Cyrano had realized that he had to be the one to touch the cup. It was a trap and the person who set it had obviously wanted him to get the cup. He didn't know what would happen, but he knew he couldn't let anyone else get there first. Not that he had to worry; the only other champion left was Fleur.

Every so often they hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made Cyrano feel sure they were getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as they moved down a long, straight path, he saw movement once again, and Fleur's beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which he had only seen in picture form, in his Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Cyrano and Fleur as they approached. Fleur raised her wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking there progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So, what must it be that I do in order to get past," knowing what the answer was going to be.

"You must answer my riddle," she said, continuing to pace, "Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

Cyrano held the creature's eyes as he thought about it. He had always heard Magus Dragons had always had a fondness for riddles, perhaps draconians found riddles interesting weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent; they could get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center.

"Okay," he said, "Can I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

_I do not breathe, but I run and jump._

_I do not eat, but I swim and stretch._

_I do not drink, but I sleep and stand._

_I do not think, but I grow and play._

_I do not see, but you see me every day._

Cyrano mind began working. He asked for the riddle again. She blinked at him, smiled, and repeated the poem.

"What do you think," he asked Fleur. She only shook her head; she looked just as perplexed as Cyrano felt. Cyrano starting pulling things apart. He had noticed each thing couldn't perform the things that living things needed to have to live. However, they did perform things that living things did do.

_So, it's part of something living_, Cyrano thought. He concentrated hard on the words, looking hard for the answer. But the pain kept him from thinking; he reached down to rub his leg…..

"It's a leg," Cyrano cried out. The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for him to pass. Fleur and Cyrano passed by as quickly as possible without looking back.

"_Point Me_."

Cyrano's wand pointed to the right and they took the next turn. They dashed up this one and saw light ahead. The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away.

Cyrano and Fleur bee lined for it. They approached the plinth that the cup was sitting on and they stood there gazing at it for a few seconds.

"You take it, Cyrano," Fleur urged him, "you deserve it."

"No, I don't, but I have to take it anyways," Cyrano said then he turned to Fleur and starred right into her sapphire eyes, "Fleur it's a trap, I don't know what will happen when I take that cup, but when I do you can bet something will happen. I need you to go back and tell Dumbledore, he'll know what to do."

"What, no, if it is a trap we should go back and tell zem now, zey'll-"

Cyrano pushed Fleur away, "No, go. I could still be wrong, but I don't want you near me when I take it."

She hesitated for a second then nodded her head and moved away. Cyrano turned back to the cup and reached out to it. As his hands closed around the cup, so did another pair of hands, they were Fleur's.

"Fleur, NO!"

Too late. Instantly, Cyrano felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Fleur at his side.

Author's Note: Okay, so that's in. I find there is less and less to say about each chapter as the story goes on, until you reach the climax. I changed a few things in there to, but closer to the end. I quick thing, you'll have noticed that I didn't add in Krum's point-of-view in this one as I suspect that he was put under the Imperius as soon as he entered the maze. I thought it would be pointless as his only goal would to be tracking down the other champions. I also changed the Sphinx's riddle as I found I got bored of the original one. Cyrano was also injured a little differently than Harry had been. This was one of the longest chapters. I wrote this next chapter a long time before this one because I needed to get the event out of my head.


	18. The Return

Author's Note: As you now it is the return of Voldy, but with a whole new outcome. With Fleur tagging along instead of Cedric, she discovers Cyrano's secret when he defends himself against the Dark Lord.

Cyrano's felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.

"Where are we," he asked.

Fleur shook her head. Cyrano got up, pulled her to her feet, and they looked around.

They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Cyrano could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside. It seemed familiar, but Cyrano couldn't place it.

He didn't need his unique senses to tell him that they were in a very bad position. Fleur looked down at the Triwizard cup.

"Did you know zat ze cup was a portkey," she asked

"No," Cyrano said, thinking about what was happening, "I suggest we draw our wands."

Fleur nodded, they pulled out their wands. Cyrano kept looking around him; he could sense someone just out of his sight of vision.

"Fleur," he whispered harshly all of a sudden, he could sense the presence approaching, "get out of here."

"What? No! I will not-"

She would have continued if Cyrano hadn't cast a silencing charm on her and forced her away at wand point.

"Go, find a way back and get Dumbledore," Cyrano told her, she didn't have a choice but to do what he said. She rushed between headstones, heading east.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, Cyrano watched a figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward him between the graves. Cyrano couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Cyrano saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from him. For a second. Cyrano and the short figure simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, Cyrano's head exploded with pain and the scar on his hand burned.

It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he and he grabbed his right hand; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all with all the pain; his head was about to split open.

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Bind him."

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Cyrano toward the marble headstone. Cyrano saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Cyrano, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. He could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. Cyrano wasn't real surprised to learn that it was Wormtail under the hood.

"Hello Peter, long time no see," Cyrano gasped, forcing every bit of anger at the small man," come to finish what you started thirteen years ago."

Wormtail didn't answer him; he continued his work, making sure that Cyrano was tied tightly to the headstone. Then he pulled out some dark material and shoved it into Cyrano's mouth. Without a word, Wormtail turned from Cyrano and hurried away. Cyrano couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone; he could see only what was right in front of him.

Glinting in the starlight, the Triwizard Cup lay some twenty feet away. Cyrano's wand was on the ground a couple of feet away from the cup. The bundle of robes that Cyrano had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. The mix of both his hand and head in pain made him realize to what was in the robes. Cyrano would have liked to verbally insult the Dark Lord right at that moment if he hadn't had a gag.

Cyrano had gotten an idea, Voldemort didn't know about his other form so it was likely that he could transform a break the ropes. However, when he tried to do so, nothing happened. It was like the draconian side of him didn't exist. After a couple more tries, Cyrano gave up.

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Cyrano's range of vision, and Cyrano saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Cyrano could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Cyrano had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Cyrano heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready. Master."

"Now ..." said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Cyrano got to see the current state of body of Voldemort

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Cyrano had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

Wormtail lifted the creature that was the Dark Lord and dropped into the cauldron. Wormtail began speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Cyrano's feet cracked. Cyrano watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue. And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh...of the servant...w...willingly given...you will...revive...your master. "

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward. Cyrano watched as the severed hand fell into the boiling liquid, the potion had turned a burning red.

Wormtail was gasping agony as he moved towards Cyrano with the silver knife. Cyrano's fear finally flared to new heights, the knife brought back memories, ones from his years in the orphanage.

"B...blood of the enemy...forcibly taken...you will...resurrect your foe."

Cyrano could do nothing to prevent it; he was tied too tightly... Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Cyrano's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Cyrano's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened for some time. Then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Cyrano, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or anything else.

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletal thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head. The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Cyrano . . . and Cyrano stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils . . .

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Fleur had watched all of this from a distance, she had to keep back a scream when Voldemort had risen from the cauldron. She hadn't gone like Cyrano had told her, she wanted to get him out first, but knew it was too dangerous now. She wasn't even sure she could return and if she did, she wasn't sure Cyrano would live. She didn't know what she would do if he died.

"My Lord..." a man's voice carried down to her, it sounded choked, "my Lord...you promised...you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily looking over something.

"Oh Master...thank you, Master..."

Something was extended towards the tall white figure dressed in black robes, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please...please ..."

Fleur watched as the Dark Lord bent down and grabbed something. He seemed to be examining that something closely. He looked to have said something, but it was too soft for her to hear. Then he lifted one of his white slender hands and pressed his figure onto, from what Fleur had guessed, the arm of the man lying on the ground. Fleur saw Cyrano flinch and close his eyes when this happened.

Voldemort straightened and laughed, his eyes searched the grave yard. Fleur back into the darkness to make sure she couldn't be seen. She could see Voldemort look at Cyrano with a cruel smile, again he spoke too softly for her to hear. He laughed a high cold laugh and continued, his eyes continued to dart at the headstones in the graveyard.

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward . . . slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes. The Death Eater murmured something and the rest followed suit, forming a circle around Voldemort and the headstone Cyrano was tied to.

Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly, though, this time it was loud enough for Fleur to hear, "Thirteen years. . . thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said, his voice carrying over to Fleur, "There is a stench or guilt upon the air." A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him. A shiver ran down Fleur's own back.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! and I ask myself...why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except for the man on the ground, who was still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself, "said Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment. . . .And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. . . perhaps they now pay allegiance to another . . . perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me...I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master," he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"_Crucio_."

Fleur cringed from behind the gravestone from which she hide, she listened to the shrieks of the man. They stopped abruptly.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly, "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years...I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

Voldemort looked down at the sobbing figure at his feet.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master...please ..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground, "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me...and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers... ."

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon the arm of the man, Fleur guessed he was Wormtail.

Voldemort continued with his speech, with a couple of interruptions by various Death Eaters. Voldemort talked about why he had failed to kill Cyrano when he was but a child. He explained about the magic Cyrano's mother invoked when she sacrificed herself. He told the Death Eaters of the protection Cyrano's mother had given him. Fleur watched as Voldemort lifted his hand and touched Cyrano on the forehead. Cyrano started to scream with pain, as though his head was about to burst. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters. He told them how his spell had rebounded that night and destroyed his body.

He continued on about how four years ago he had discovered a stone that would bring back his full power and body. Only he was thwarted by Cyrano and had to flee the body he possessed. He explained that the man Wormtail had returned to him only just a year beforehand and helped him stay alive and sustained. Then he told them of the plan he had formed to get the one component that he needed to regain his body, the blood of Cyrano Odion.

At one point he turned towards Cyrano and smiled a cruel smile. Fleur watched him horror as he raised his wand at Cyrano.

"_Crucio_."

Fleur watched the boy who had went through all the Triwizard tasks and suffered several different injuries, twitch in pain attached to a headstone. Throughout the whole thing she could see that Cyrano's face was full of pain, but could not scream through the gag in his mouth.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Cyrano Odion escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. But first there is something I must deal with that Nagini has informed me on."

Fleur froze with horror as Voldemort turned in the direction to where she was hiding and cast a spell. Ropes shot out of thin air and wrapped around her. She fell to the ground as the ropes tied around her. Fleur heard Voldemort say something and footsteps approached her. Someone picked her up and carried her back to the circle, Fleur wanted to scream, but the ropes had also wrapped around her mouth.

She was propped up against a headstone directly across from Cyrano. She looked into his stormy grey eyes and saw his emotions, fear, anger, sadness; all the ones that appeared when someone realized they were in a dire situation.

"Ah, yes, another champion from the tournament," Voldemort addressed her with his cold voice, "I would kill you now, but from what I can see in my young friend's eyes, I can see you mean very much to him. Besides my followers, I'm sure, wouldn't mind company from someone who has Veela blood."

There were jeers from all around, Fleur was helpless and she hated that.

"Now, untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

As soon as the ropes were loose Cyrano limped away from the headstone and onto the grass. Wormtail stepped forward and handed Cyrano his wand, it was only in his hand for a split second before Wormtail was on the ground stunned, twenty feet from where he originally stood, unconscious next to the Triwizard cup.

"_Crucio_."

Cyrano fell to the ground in agony, Voldemort carried on a few seconds before lifting the spell.

"You shouldn't have done that," Voldemort said, as Cyrano got back onto his feet, "not before we have properly started our duel, which I presume you have been taught to do?"

Cyrano didn't answer.

"We bow to each other, Cyrano," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Cyrano. "Come, the niceties must be observed... Dumbledore would like you to show manners...Bow to death, Cyrano..."

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Cyrano did not bow. Fleur silently wished he would do what Voldemort said, it would cause him less pain.

"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand and Cyrano's spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Cyrano lifted too, "And now you face me, like a man...straight-backed and proud, the way your father died... And now...we duel."

Voldemort raised his wand again and Cyrano fell to the ground once more under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Fleur felt tears rolling down her face as she watched it. She wished she could do something to help, but she was useless. Voldemort broke the spells connection and Cyrano slowly got back to his feet, he was shaking uncontrollably.

"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause...That hurt, didn't it, Cyrano? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Cyrano once more didn't answer him; Fleur didn't understand why he didn't fight back.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly, "Answer me!_ Imperio_."

Fleur watched Cyrano for a mental battle happening behind his eyes, but Cyrano didn't seem to change. Voldemort seemed to be surprised.

"Strange, immunity to the Imperius Curse. Few beings alive can manage such a feat," Voldemort said, he was staring at Cyrano intently as though he was searching for something, "Very well, I will make you beg for death in other ways."

He aimed his wand at Cyrano and fired a spell, but Cyrano ducked behind a gravestone.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Cyrano," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer to the gravestone Cyrano was hiding behind, as the Death Eaters laughed, "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Cyrano? Come out, Cyrano...come out and play, then...it will be quick...it might even be painless...I would not know...I have never died..."

Fleur could do nothing as the Dark Lord drew closer to Cyrano, she watched as he reached the headstone, but it was then that a figure stood out from behind. Fleur would have gasped if it hadn't been for the rope in her mouth.

Cyrano stood before Voldemort, but he was not as he was just seconds beforehand. His robes had been taken of and the tatters of his shirt were all that remained around his neck. His shoes had also been kicked off. His skin had become pale-blue. Patches of slightly darker blue scales surrounded his eyes and lined the bridge his nose, more scales covered his forearms and his chest. The ones on its chest extended around to its back were a set of leathery wings extended to around fifteen feet if spread out to full lengths. His feet were like normal human feet, but the toenails were pointed and covered in scales, it was much the same for his hands. Fleur's eyes stretched to the top of its head were two large sleek horns stretched out behind his head from under his shoulder length hair on his forehead. _Cyrano,_ she thought. Fear gripped her stomach.

His eyes flickered towards Fleur. They were slits much like Voldemort's, but they weren't red. The pupils were slits, blue extended out from the pupils fading into grey. Fleur saw the same emotions that had been in Cyrano's eyes right before Voldemort had him untied from the tombstone.

Cyrano lunged at Voldemort who side-stepped barely out of the way as Cyrano flew past him, hands catching the air where Voldemort had been standing. He quickly spun around and threw himself at Voldemort again, this time the Dark Lord didn't escape. Cyrano wrestled him to the ground, landing a blow in Voldemort's mid-section. Fleur could barely see what was happening because of the flurry of limbs and wings. Cyrano was blasted upward and nearly landed on top of a tombstone ten feet from his enemy. Cyrano got to his feet, his eyes locking onto Voldemort once he had sight of him.

"So your part draconian," Voldemort said acting like it didn't surprise him, "that would explain your immunity to the Imperius curse. It would also explain what my spy at Hogwarts told me about you. We are so much alike, heirs of great wizards, orphans who went to an orphanage, we are both much more than we seem; even the creatures that we can control are so much alike. If only you weren't standing in my way, I might offer you amnesty. However, it is not so."

"Yes, Riddle, we may be the same in some ways, but I know better than you," Cyrano said, his voice slightly deeper, but still gravelly, maybe even more so. His wings unfurled in a threatening manner, "and now you will know a dragon's wrath."

"You dare use the filthy name the pathetic excuse for a father gave me," Voldemort's voice reached a threatening tone.

"Yes, because the name you gave yourself means nothing to me," Cyrano answered back.

Voldemort became enraged.

As Voldemort screamed "_Avada Kedavra_." Cyrano shouted "_Expelliarmus_."

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Cyrano's - they met in midair - and suddenly Cyrano's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Cyrano, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared Cyrano for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves. . . . The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Cyrano and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands. Cyrano flapped his wings uncertainly.

The golden thread connecting Cyrano and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Cyrano and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now. . . .

"Do nothing," Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Cyrano saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Cyrano's; Cyrano held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken, "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air. ... It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Cyrano and Voldemort. It sounded like several hundred dragons humming at once. It was a sound Cyrano recognized, though he had never heard it before in his life: dragon song. It was the sound of hope to Cyrano. . . the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life. . . . He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him. ... It was the sound he connected with Merlin, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear. . . .

Don't break the connection.

_I know_, Cyrano told the music, _I know I mustn't ._ . . but no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever . . . and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too ... it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and

down the thread connecting the wands - Cyrano felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way. . . . The direction of the beams movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily. . . .

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Cyrano's wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Cyrano's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers - He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of dragon song, his eyes furious, fixed . . . and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way . . . and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now . . . Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful. . . .

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemorts wand. Cyrano didn't understand why he was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve... but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort s wand...and slowly...very slowly... it moved along the golden thread...it trembled for a moment... and then it connected...

At once, Voldemorts wand began to emit echoing screams of pain . . . then - Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished . . . the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail. . . more shouts of pain . . . and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. ... It was a head . . . now a chest and arms . . .

The old man Cyrano had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand. His ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell out of Voldemort's wand next to Cyrano. He surveyed Cyrano and Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick. . . .

"He was a real wizard, then," the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did...You fight him, boy..."

But already, another head was emerging ... and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's. . . . Cyrano, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the other, staring. . . . The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now," she cried, and her voice echoed like the old man's, as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Cyrano...don't let go!"

She and the other shadowy figure began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it... and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Cyrano, and hissed words Cyrano couldn't hear to Voldemort. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand...and Cyrano knew when he saw it who it would be ... he knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when the old man had appeared from the wand...knew, because the man appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight...

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him...and Cyrano, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Your mother's coming..." he said quietly, "She wants to see you...it will be all right...hold on..."

And she came... first her head, then her body...a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Odion blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Cyrano, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear...

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments...but we will give you time...you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts...do you understand, Cyrano?"

"Yes," Cyrano gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Remember Cyrano, your heritage is my gift to you, don't hide it like it's shameful to the world," the ghost of his mother told him.

"Alright," Cyrano nodded, he knew what she was telling him, but he wondered if he could do it when it needed to be done.

"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready to run...do it now..."

"NOW," Cyrano yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he pulled his wand up with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the dragon song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Cyrano from his gaze -

And Cyrano ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones - he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward the Triwizard cup, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do -

Ten feet from the cup and Wormtail, he jumped into the air using his wings to propel him up; he aimed his wand at Fleur and cut her bonds. She started towards the cup once she was on her feet.

"Stun him," he heard Voldemort scream

Both he and Fleur reached for the cup at the same time and in the spur of the moment, Cyrano reached out and grabbed Wormtail's hand, forcing it in the handle of the Triwizard cup.

He heard Voldemort s scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, taking Fleur and Peter along with him...They were going back.

Author's Note: Well there you have it, Voldemort is once more back. As you can see I've changed a few things. Most obvious of those is instead of phoenix song, I changed it to dragon song. I did this because Cyrano's wand contains dragon heartstring, so when Dumbledore explains the connection between their wands, I'm going to change Voldemort's wand core to that as well. Also Fleur as you noticed came along instead of Cedric and did not die, Peter was captured as well. Everything will come in to play in the sequel fanfic that I plan to make. Please rate and comment.


	19. The Unfolding

Author's Note: There will some things in here that will most certainly change. Plus I bring in some knew concepts that will come into play in the next fanfic.

Albus had become aware that something had gone wrong when Cedric and Krum had been found next to each other in the maze. He had no idea how they had come to be like that, whether they had fought with each other or one of them had come across the other and then was attacked, but it was evident that some external source was involved.

Cornelius Fudge was sitting next to him, politely waiting for a one of the last two champions to come out with the cup. Madame Maxime was on the opposite side fidgeting with some of her robes. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Ludo Bagman chatting with some students. All of them unaware of the situation.

"Excuse me, Minister, I just remembered that there is something I must attend to," Dumbledore said cheerfully. The only answer he got was a nod from Fudge. Dumbledore left his place at the judge's tale and went to look for Severus. He found him standing off to the side of the stands, watching the place where the cup was supposed to take the holder after they touched the cup.

"Severus," he said as he approached the potions teacher, "what do you suppose happened?"

"Sir," Severus addressed him, it was calm, but he wasn't hiding the worry.

"Come, Severus, a champion would have reached the cup by now," Dumbledore said, his voice a lot more serious than it had been with Fudge.

"I could hardly tell you what has befallen either Odion or Delacour, I am sure you have come up with something, sir," Severus said with the same calm voice.

"I have an idea, but the idea of it would scare-"

Just then Snape grunted and grabbed his left arm; he hurriedly ripped the sleeve up and looked upon his arm. Both Dumbledore and Snape were looking at the Dark Mark clear as it had been fourteen years before the current day. Their eyes met. Dumbledore assumption had been correct.

"No one must know what's happening Severus, we do not need chaos," Dumbledore said quickly.

"Albus, this could be just something that happened by accident, a Death Eater in a drunken state having some joke," Severus said quietly.

"I think not Severus, no, Tom has returned tonight," Dumbledore said, he had not much looked at what he thought of it and really, what he felt was sadness for the boy, he had a difficult road in head of him. Dumbledore left Snape standing where he was and returned to the judge's table, but he did not sit, he needed to be the first one to get to Cyrano. He hardly wondered what had happened to Fleur Delacour, with the friendship they had gained throughout the year, she no doubt had accompanied him. Which brought up knew worries; Tom would have surely killed her.

It was a long wait, the students chattering was blocked out of his head by his own thoughts. Dumbledore waited standing, Fudge had insisted that he sit down, but Dumbledore had ignored the requests and Fudge gave up. There was a flash of light and something heavy fell onto the ground in front of the judge's table. Actually three figures lay on the ground.

The first was Cyrano, his close was in tatters and he was awake his arm was bleeding heavily as was his leg. Fleur lay next to him, she was also awake, but shaking fiercely. Dumbledore could see a few scratches here and there, but she didn't seem to have come to any harm. The third figure came to a surprise to Dumbledore. It was a squat figure wearing black robes, the last time he had seen him it was right before he betrayed the Odions. Peter Pettigrew was unconscious; his black eyes were hidden behind his closed eyelids.

A cheer went up; the students hadn't noticed the extra person. Dumbledore rushed from the table and bent over the boy.

"Cyrano! Cyrano," he said, the boy met him with clear grey eyes instead of the misty grey ones he usually received. Dumbledore knew he had transformed to defend himself tonight.

"Albus, he's back," Cyrano whispered, "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's going on? What's happened? And who's that?"

It was Cornelius; he had left the table as well. Cyrano jumped to his as at the mention of the third person. He grabbed the front of the robes of Wormtail and pulled the unconscious man to his feet. People were starting to notice that something was off.

"Minister, I'd like you to meet someone who once was a friend to my father, Peter Pettigrew," Cyrano said, his voice full of anger, not pointed all at one person.

"You can't mean….that would be preposterous," Fudge stammered. Dumbledore helped Fleur to her feet, she seemed completely separated from the present time.

"Oh, it is no more preposterous than Cyrano being the Heir of Merlin," Dumbledore said, he motioned to Severus who had joined them around the same time as Fudge, "Severus, could you go retrieve some Veritaserum?"

Snape didn't look back as he rushed to get the potion.

"Minister if you would follow me to my office we can have this cleared up in due time, Cyrano , Miss Delacour if you would accompany us," Dumbledore said turning to the young students.

"They'll need to go to the hospital wing," Fudge was saying loudly, "He's ill and he's injured –"

"No, Cyrano needs to be there an Miss Delacour has the right to know what has happened tonight," Fudge looked ready to argue, but Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, "Minerva, talk to the Blaxtons and to the Delacours, tell them that the two Champions are all right."

"What if they ask where you're taking them," McGonagall asked, looking at the two families who were trying their best to get out of the stands.

"I have questions for them," he turned and motioned for the other three to follow. Cyrano was intent to keep hold of the small man. They passed through the crowd, which was in an uproar. They entered the castle and made their way to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.

Cyrano dropped Wormtail in one of the chairs in front of the desk sitting in the middle of the room. Dumbledore stopped next to Fawkes, "Find Moody."

The phoenix left its perch and flew out an open window and disappeared.

"Dumbledore, I cannot see what you're getting at with bringing me up here, or those two for that matter, they are injured and should go to the Hospital Wing," Fudge exclaimed, his bowler hat in his hands, twirling it slowly.

"Because, Minister, I do not want chaos on the grounds when I say that Voldemort has just returned," Dumbledore said quietly. The simple sentence was like a silencing charm, Fudge was speechless. Dumbledore was getting ready for an argument he knew was coming.

"You-Know-Who . . . returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore ..."

"Preposterous is it when a man we all thought dead sits before you know, preposterous is it that Cyrano's name ended up in the Goblet of Fire, preposterous is it that a murder was attempted on a Ministry official who had been under the Imperius Curse for months," Dumbledore said, a small trickle of anger streamed into him. Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore. Fudge looked about to answer, but it was than Snape decided to enter.

"Ah, Severus good, you brought the potion I presume," Dumbledore asked. Without a word Snape walked the length of the room and handed him a small bottle. Dumbledore took it with slow motions and took out the cork. He walked to the unconscious form of Wormtail and tipped the bottle towards his mouth.

"Now, Dumbledore you cannot just use Veritaserum whenever you like. You have to have consent of a Ministry official," Fudge exclaimed heatedly from the side.

"Minister, may I remind you that this man betrayed James and Lily Odion, and is a Death Eater. Fine, by your consent Minister I would like to administer the Veritaserum on our suspect."

Fudge had nothing to argue with so stayed quite. Dumbledore took this as permission and poured the potion into the open mouth of Peter.

"_Ennervate_."

Peter opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused. Dumbledore stood before him and looked down into his black eyes.

"Can you hear me," Dumbledore asked quietly.

Peter's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," he muttered.

"Are you in fact the Peter Pettigrew that betrayed James and Lily Odion to Voldemort nearly fourteen years ago?"

"Yes."

"Did Voldemort return tonight, did he regain a body?"

"Yes," Wormtail said, he whimpered at the name.

"How," asked Dumbledore.

"By using the blood of his enemy, Cyrano Odion."

"I presume you used the Triwizard Tournament as a way of getting to Cyrano?"

"Yes, we had someone on the inside place his name in the fire under a different school name."

"And who put his name into the goblet?"

"Barty Crouch Jr.," Dumbledore frowned.

"Barty Crouch Jr. is dead, he died in Azkaban."

"No, after Barty Crouch Jr. was sentence to Azkaban, his mother became very sick and persuaded his father to break him out. He agreed to it and visited Azkaban. He had used polyjuice potion to disguise both—"

"As each other," Dumbledore finished, "how did he get past without being noticed by the Dementors?"

"As you know, the Dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy; one dying person leaving it," Wormtail explained, "Prisoners did recognize him as his mother."

"How did you come across him?"

"The witch, Bertha Jorkins. I found her in a pub not far from where my master was hiding. I managed to convince her to come with me. My master forced her to tell him things, she told him of the Triwizard tournament and she told him of the Auror Moody who would be teaching at Hogwarts. She had learned about his existence when she visited the Crouch Estate. She had heard Winky, the house elf of Bartemius Crouch, talking to his son. She had let herself in to investigate and learned who it was. Barty's father returned and put a memory charm on Bertha. My master cracked it when rummaging through her mind. My master insisted that we retrieve him; I didn't want him to go as he was weak, but he was persistent. One night we, after the World Cup, I carried him to the estate and Bartemius answered the door. I put him under the Imperius Curse I ordered him to go about business as usual. Then my master asked him if he was ready to risk everything for him. The boy readily agreed. My master needed a faithful servant at school. Someone who could insure Cyrano Odion made it through the tasks. But first he needed a way in."

"Moody," Dumbledore whispered, then addressed Snape, "Severus, go to Alastor's office. You'll find that the Moody we have known for the last few months is gone. I need you to see if you can find the real Moody; the fake Moody will have needed him to be nearby in order to make more polyjuice potion."

"Yes sir," Snape left the office. Dumbledore returned to Wormtail.

"How did you manage it?"

" We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. Crouch Jr. drank it; he became Moody's double. He out on the leg and eye. He was ready to face the Ministry official when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. He made the dustbins move around the yard. He told the official He had heard intruders in his yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then He packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. He kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. He wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that he could fool even Dumbledore. He also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. He stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons."

"And what did you do when he left for Hogwarts?"

"I returned to care for my master, and to look over Bartemius Crouch."

"But he escaped," Dumbledore said.

"Yes," Wormtail whimpered and drew away slightly, "he had begun to fight off the Imperius Curse. My master decided he wasn't to leave his house anymore. I made him send letters to the Ministry saying that he was ill. But I neglected my duties. Bartemius managed to escape and went to Hogwarts to explain everything to Dumbledore, to confess. We sent word ahead, Crouch Jr. was supposed to kill him. But he failed because Cyrano was there when Crouch stumbled out of the woods and carried him to the school. Crouch tried to subdue them, but failed."

There was complete silence now. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight. . ."

"He offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Wormtail, "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power."

Dumbledore waved his wand and Peter became unconscious once more. He turned to the inhabitance of the room.

"There you have it, Minister, a full account."

Cyrano could hardly believe, the whole reason behind this year was so Voldemort could get to him. Moody was an imposter. Barty Crouch Jr. then tried to attack him to kill his father. Cyrano raised his gaze from Wormtail and his eyes connected with Dumbledore's. Fudge was looked stunned.

Finally he said, he sounded tired, "What would you have me do, Albus?"

"Nothing for now, Voldemort wants everyone to believe he has returned quietly. I will send you a letter to explain, but I suggest that you take Peter here and return to the Ministry now," Dumbledore said. The Minister cast a spell and Wormtail floated in the air and turned to leave. Cyrano thought of something and jumped to his feet, which was a mistake because feeling had returned to his limbs.

"Minister, wait," Fudge turned to look at him, "Now that you have Peter, what about Sirius Black…..my godfather?"

Fudge looked surprised that he knew about Sirius Black's guardianship over him, he would have been even more surprised to learn that he had been the one to supply him with the information last year.

"Uh, yes….I suppose…it will have to be made at a formal trial, but…..I hear by now state that Sirius Black is clear of all charges," Fudge said, then he turned with Peter in tow and left the office. Cyrano returned to his seat. Fleur was still sitting. She hadn't moved or made a noise sense their return, he knew why to. She had been walking around with him for months, she knew he had something special about him, but she likely never suspected him of being part Draconian. Cyrano turned his attention back onto Dumbledore; he had returned to the location behind his desk and was pulling out the Pensieve. He set it on the desk and sat down. He noticed Cyrano watching him; he gave Cyrano a small, grim smile.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Cyrano," said Dumbledore. Cyrano was ready for this. But it was then that Snape reentered.

"Sir, I found Moody inside a trunk, I sent him down to the Hospital wing," he said, he noticed that Cyrano and Fleur were still present.

"Very well Severus, I want you to see if you can locate Karkaroff," Dumbledore said, looking over his hands. Snape nodded and left.

"If you are ready, Cyrano," Dumbledore returned his gaze on him. He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; the ghosts of the dead surrounding him.

When Cyrano told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Cyrano started. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Cyrano to stretch out his arm. Cyrano showed him both the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Cyrano told Dumbledore, "He said the protection my - my mother left in me ,he'd have it too. And he was right,he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

For a fleeting instant, Cyrano thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second, Cyrano was sure he had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as Cyrano had ever seen him.

"Very well," he said, sitting down again, "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Cyrano, continue, please."

Cyrano went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see the old man, Bertha Jorkins ... his father . . . his mother . . .

Fleur finally broke in.

"Ze wands connected," she said, looking from Cyrano to Dumbledore, "Why?"

Cyrano looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look.

"Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into Cyrano's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect," said Fleur sharply. Cyrano had never heard of it, but apparently she had.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, "Cyrano's wand and Voldemorts wand share cores. Each of them contains a heartstring from the same dragon. The dragon of course I refer to is long sense dead."

"So what 'appens when a wand meets its brother," Fleur asked.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore, "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle ... a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first. . . and then those which preceded it. . . ."

He looked interrogatively at Cyrano, and Cyrano nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Cyrano's face, "that some form of you mother and father must have reappeared."

Cyrano nodded again.

"'E's parents came back to life," Fleur said incredulously.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily, "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Lily and James would have emerged from the wand . . . am I correct, Cyrano?"

"They spoke to me," Cyrano said. He found that he was shaking, "The . . . the ghosts of my parents , or whatever they were, spoke."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained you parent's forms appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared . . . less recent victims of Voldemort's wand..."

"An old man," Cyrano said, his throat still constricted, "and Bertha Jorkins."

"The old man was Frank Bryce. He was a caretaker until most recently when he showed up dead. He was the caretaker of Voldemort's father's house, but when Voldemort returned Bryce investigated the house and he was murdered. The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding, "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Cyrano, these echoes, these shadows... what did they do?"

Cyrano described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Cyrano's mother had told him what to do, and what she told him. At this point, Cyrano found he could not continue. He looked around at Fleur and found her gazing at him.

"Cyrano you said Voldemort gained your mother's protection in order to touch you, he was right he gained it, but I guess that it still hurts him," Dumbledore sighed, "But he also gained more tonight. He gained the blood of an Heir of Merlin. He has gained something that could be valuable later."

"I don't understand," Cyrano said," what could have gained form that?"

"Merlin had items, items that could be used as weapons as well as to help. Only an Heir can touch them, but now that he has your blood he could use them as well," Dumbledore said, "we cannot worry about that much now, though, he has only just returned and will not be doing anything soon."

Cyrano's heart sank; he had just helped the darkest wizard in the world in ways he couldn't even imagine. This must have showed on his face because Dumbledore spoke up.

"I will say this and probably again in later days to come," said Dumbledore as he stood up, "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Cyrano. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace . . . Fleur, I suggest you go there as well. There are more things I will ask of you, both of you, but not tonight."

Fleur nodded and stood up. She walked with Cyrano and Dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the Hospital Wing.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door, Cyrano saw Kate, Miles, Jonathan, and Morgan grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pompfrey. The Delacours were there as well, looking just as worried as the Blaxtons. They appeared to be demanding to know where Cyrano and Fleur were and what had happened to them. McGonagall was All of them whipped around as Cyrano, Dumbledore, and Fleur entered, and Kate let out a kind of muffled scream. Apolline Delacour rushed to her daughter.

"Cyrano! Oh, Cyrano," Kate started to hurry toward him, but Dumbledore moved between both of the women and the two students.

"Please, ladies," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Cyrano and Fleur have been through a terrible ordeal tonight. Cyrano has just had to relive it for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If they would like you all to stay with them," he added, looking around at both families, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Both Kate and Apolline nodded, both were very white. Dumbledore turned to McGonagall.

"Come, Minerva, there are things we must discuss," Dumbledore said. McGonagall followed him out of the room. But before he got too far he turned back and said, "Oh, I will be back to see you as soon as I have sorted out something's, Cyrano, there are still things we must discuss. I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He left.

As Madam Pompfrey led Cyrano to a nearby bed, he caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.

"Is he okay," Cyrano asked.

"He'll be fine," said Madam Pompfrey, giving Cyrano some pajamas and pulling screens around him. He took off his tattered robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. The Blaxtons came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of him. Jonathan and Morgan were looking at him almost cautiously, as though scared of him.

"I'm all right," he told them. "Just tired."

He gazed to where Fleur was, her family surrounded her as the Blaxtons had him. He turned his sight back on the ones who had gathered around him.

Kate's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his bed-covers unnecessarily.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.

"You'll need to drink all of this, Cyrano," she said, "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Cyrano took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He felt himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the Hospital Wing seemed to be winking at him in a friendly way through the screen around his bed; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before he could finish the potion, before he could say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.

Cyrano woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that he didn't open his eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; he was sure it was still night time and had a feeling that he couldn't have been asleep very long. But something wet and soft nuzzled his cheek and he opened his eyes to see Sirius, still in dog form, right in his face.

"Down, Snuffles," he said groggily. His voice sounded worse than usual. The rasp of his damaged vocal chords mixed with sleepiness. He looked around and noticed that the Blaxtons hadn't left their spots. They were all staring at him.

"You can ask me anything you want, I'm not as weak as many people like to believe," Cyrano said. They all looked slightly worried; he could see Dumbledore had told them nothing. Jonathan was first to speak up.

"What happened after you went into the maze," It was the simplest question to start with. Cyrano told them everything from when he entered to after his duel with Voldemort. He could see the Delacours listening in. The only thing he avoided saying was that he had transformed, anyone who knew about him would no doubt guess that had.

"So he really is back," Miles said quietly. Cyrano nodded. Both Morgan and Kate had their hands over their mouths. Jonathan had turned as pale as he did every full moon.

"What will happen now," Morgan asked her voice just as quietly as her father's.

"What else," Cyrano said, "we fight. The Minister knows we'll no doubt have defenses set up against him in mere weeks."

"'We' what do you mean 'we', you're not going to fight, you're too young," Kate said rather harshly.

"On the off-hand Kate, I will be the one deciding who will fight and who will not," a voice said. Their heads turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. He approached the bed Cyrano was in, "But nothing has been decided yet."

Kate would have argued if Dumbledore wouldn't have stopped her. Snape entered the Hospital Wing.

"You summoned Headmaster," Snape said.

"There are some things that must be addressed," Dumbledore continued, "First thing; it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius ... if you could resume your usual form."

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into

a man.

Kate screamed and leapt back from the bed.

"Sirius Black," she shrieked, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up," Jonathan yelled, "It's okay!"

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.

"Him," he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike, "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Cyrano thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.

"I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us.

Very slowly - but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill - Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more, "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's knows, but I will explain more of that situation later. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd. Cyrano I believe you have something to tell your godfather before he goes?"

"Oh yeah," Cyrano turned to his godfather, who was now staring between Dumbledore and his godson, "Sirius, you'll have to lie low for a bit, but the Minister has declared you free."

Cyrano saw something spark in Sirius's eyes and he had pulled Cyrano into a bear hug before he knew it. Then, without a nether word, was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared ..."

"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"Cyrano, take the rest of your potion we'll talk after you wake," Dumbledore said.

Cyrano slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. The Blaxtons were all looking at him. None of them spoke for a very long time. Then without a word Cyrano took the rest of his potion, or was about to when there was a loud slamming noise, Cyrano looked in the direction it had come from. Morgan was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered. Cyrano finally took the potion.

Cyrano drank it in one gulp. The effect was instantaneous. Heavy, irresistible waves of dreamless sleep broke over him; he fell back onto his pillows and thought no more.

Author's Note: Okay, the next chapter will likely be the last. Again you will have noticed I changed somethings and all will come into play in due course.


	20. The Beginning

Author's Note: this will likely be the last chapter for this fanfic. I plan to make a sequel that will focus more on Merlin a bit, but not fully. The next one will be similar to the fifth HP book, but there are some major differences.

Cyrano woke up in the early morning. This time he found that no one was at the foot of his bed and was thankful for it. He lay his head back on the pillow and thought about the previse evening. Voldemort was back and, unwillingly, because of him. He could now touch Cyrano without be harmed and could possibly figure how to use items o Merlin, providing that he knew how to locate them.

Cyrano sighed he knew things were going to become difficult for him. He turned his head and saw fleur laying in a bed a few beds down. The early sunlight shown through the window and landed on her face. Cyrano thought of what he was to tell her. He had kept a lot from her, it had mattered of course, but she had become his friend.

He sat up, and glanced around no one was around. He slide his feet off the bed and tried standing. His leg was still in extreme pain, but other whys he was in good shape. Moody was fast asleep, but Cyrano could see that he had his wand gripped tightly in his hand. He walked the length of the Hospital Wings a couple of times before returning to his bed. By this time Fleur was awake and watching him. He got back into bed and didn't say anything for a time, but instead continued to stare at the opposite side of the room.

Finally he said, "I didn't get the time to ask if you had been injured."

She took some time to answer as well.

"I am fine," Cyrano glanced in her direction; she wasn't looking at him, but was staring out the window.

"Fleur, there are somethings I must explain," he said. She didn't answer, so he continued, "As you might have seen the other day that I'm a…..draconian, or partly at any rate."

Again she didn't answer; he was finding this was one of the hardest conversations he had ever had.

"I would have told you sooner, but with everything that was happening this year, I couldn't exactly trust anyone. Plus there are some minor things I still have to work out with that bit of my life," she still kept quiet, "Fleur, I need to know what you think."

"I zink zat you betrayed ze trust I 'ad for you. But I am glad you 'ave at least told me that you 'ad good reasons," she said turning to face him now, "I 'ave been persecuted before because of who I am, Cyrano. I would 'ave understood."

"Would you have," Cyrano asked raising a questioning eyebrow, "I have a more unique case than most people. When I transformed the other night I saw the fear in your eyes."

Fleur blushed guiltily.

"Exactly my point, draconians have always been feared and that fear has only increased sense they stopped showing themselves more frequently," Cyrano said not trying to act like a jerk, but trying to prove a point, "To tell you the truth I was scared of myself when I discovered what I was. I'll be the first to have any heritage of them sense they disappeared over 2,000 years ago. Once it is out of what I am, there will be a great deal of controversy. Some will want me killed on sight well others will want to hold a trial or a meeting of some sort to talk it over. Mind you it will get out someday, by my own mouth."

"'Ow do you know zat," Fleur asked.

"Because I have already started planning it," Cyrano stopped there not wanting to reveal any more than he had to say. As on cue, Dumbledore entered, Fleur's father at his feet. As he approached, Cyrano moved to stand up, but Dumbledore motioned for him to stay where he was. He conjured two seats for himself and Mr. Delacour; Fleur sat at the edge of Cyrano's bed.

"I have told you that I wanted to speak to both of you," Dumbledore said, his fingertips pressing up against one another as he looked at the two of them, " I would have done it alone, but as Miss Delacour here is not my student, I asked her father to come along to counsel her. I have already told him what I am to ask and we have talked it over, we have both agreed that whatever you decide will be what you decide."

Cyrano had noticed the last bit had been aimed at Fleur and not him.

"What do you want to know, sir," Fleur asked, looking a little perplexed.

"At the rising of Lord Voldemort, I have reassembled a group of people I assembled last time to fight against him. Its name is the Order of the Phoenix," Cyrano know knew what he had meant the other night when he told Sirius 'the old crowd', "As it has been sometime sense the group was last operating, some of the members will not return, either because they can't risk putting family members in danger or because they are dead. We will need new recruits and that is what I am asking of you. Miss Delacour I am asking you if you would join the Order?"

Cyrano, of course, was not suspecting this at all. Neither had Fleur apparently, because she looked like she had just walked through a ghost. She opened her mouth to talk, but nothing came out so she shut it again. Cyrano looked at Dumbledore; he could see amusement shining behind d the old wizard's eyes.

"What about my schooling, I 'ave one year left," Fleur asked. For the first time her father spoke.

"Dumbledore has suggested zat you come back 'ere, to 'Ogwarts, to finish off your schooling," Alan looked as if he rather not have his daughter recruited into the Order, which is no doubt what he was feeling, "Zat way you'd be close when zey call for you."

"But why me," she asked.

"Because of Cyrano," Cyrano couldn't help but wonder exactly what he had to do with it, but was answered shortly by Dumbledore, "He will be important against the fight of Voldemort and we will need someone close to him just in case."

"Hang on a second," Cyrano piped in, "I can defend myself as I proved the other night."

"I didn't say you couldn't, but I will need someone you and I can trust, someone we now who will do anything to get you out of danger," Dumbledore said staring Cyrano straight in the eyes. His gazed turned to Fleur, "So Miss Delacour, what is your answer?"

Fleur stood there on the spotlight. Cyrano knew the feeling, but truthfully he was thinking more of her answer than the pressure she was under at the moment. She stood there for half a minute well they waited. Her face became firm and Cyrano knew the answer before she spoke it.

"I will join ze Order," Dumbledore nodded and Alan said nothing, though he looked like he wanted to protest.

"Good," Dumbledore said, "After the school term is officially over I will send you letters explaining more. Now, as it seems only fair because he went through a great deal more the other night, I extend this deal to Cyrano only there's more to it."

Cyrano's heart lifted at the thought that Dumbledore thought he was ready to fight for himself, "What more is there?"

"As you are of under age, I cannot simply induct you into the Order," Cyrano's heart began to fall from the place it had risen to, "But I can offer a deal."

"And what's the deal?"

"You must find a way to be older than you are," Dumbledore said, "I am talking more than merely aging potion or such things, what you seek lies within yourself. If you happen to do so, I have a job that may very well prove useful to us in the war against Voldemort."

"I'll try my best headmaster," Cyrano said, he was still quite bewildered at what he must do. Again Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well, I think I will leave you in the care of Madam Pompfrey for a couple more hours and then you may return to the school.

Cyrano returned to Gryffindor Tower that evening. From what Jonathan and Morgan told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Cyrano alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed. He found he didn't care very much. He liked it best when he was with Jonathan and Morgan and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Jonathan told Cyrano about a meeting Kate had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She wanted to know what he asked of you, she wanted to know that he wasn't going to put you into any danger," Jonathan said," He reassured her that he wasn't, but I don't think mum believes him. She asked me to ask you, I tried to tell her it was pointless, but she wouldn't listen."

"Tell her that if I was in anymore danger than I am, I would be dead," Jonathan smiled at that.

The only person apart from Jonathan and Morgan that Cyrano felt able to talk to was Fleur. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They walked on the grounds talking about what was coming. Fleur asked a lot about Hogwarts, as she would be attending it soon rather than Beauxbatons. They never trailed much further into discussing Voldemort than talking about the Order, which they only did when they knew no one was close.

It was the night before the End of Term Feast. Cyrano lay awake trying to get his mind into order. It was thinking too hard to let him sleep. He knew know that Voldemort was back death would begin, and those that die he might care about. The one person he didn't have to worry about was Merlin who was locked away safe somewhere. Cyrano, unable to rest his mind got up and left the dormitory. He made his way across the common room as well and left through the portrait hole. He pulled out the Marauders Map, which he had regained sense the discovery of the fake Moody who they thought would have taken it, and looked for any roaming figure finding none.

He made it to the Astronomy Towered, as usual, without being discovered. Ignatius had promised to return here every night; Cyrano found him pacing across the balcony.

"Well it's about time, you haven't been up here in ages, I've had to learn things from portraits and you know how that can go," Ignatius said heatedly.

"You could have come and found me yourself you know," Cyrano said smirking at the dragons comment.

"And do all that work when I know you'll be returning her, no way. So why have you come this time."

"Just couldn't sleep," Cyrano told him.

"Best you could come up with, really 'I couldn't sleep'," Ignatius said, mocking Cyrano's voice.

"No I couldn't, everything is about to change and I'll be in the middle of it," Cyrano sighed and rested his elbows on the balcony railings.

"Then don't think about. Here, think about what you're going to do with your prize money," Ignatius said. Cyrano had been presented with it early in the morning by a Ministry official as the Minister was to busy with other things at the time. Cyrano, already being the heir of Merlin, had enough money to supply several decades more of heirs and then some. He decided that, as they would appreciate the money, had given it to Jack and Blake who could decide how to split it. The two friends had been pleased with it and said that whenever he needed something, he just had to ask.

"I gave it away already. I don't need it, lord knows I already have enough money," Cyrano told Ignatius. The small dragon huffed.

"Well, I guess it was yours to give away. Okay, how about the French girl, she'll be coming back here," Cyrano had told Ignatius everything Dumbledore had discussed with him and Fleur.

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh please," Ignatius through his front talons up in exasperation, "Do you wonder why?"

"She came back because Dumbledore asked her to, because he needs someone he can trust to be near me in case of an attack."

"And you think that's all, tell me one reason why she would do that. She owes you nothing and yet she decides to protect you?"

"I saved her life several times in the past few months, I think that qualifies as owing me," Cyrano said.

"By putting herself in danger," Ignatius persisted. Cyrano opened his mouth to answer, but found he had no argument for it. He had not asked for her to put herself in danger for him, yet there she was joining the Order. Cyrano didn't want to give Ignatius the satisfaction of leaving him speechless, though.

"She chose to do it, her choices don't rest in my hands," Ignatius harrumphed at the answer and fell silent. However, Ignatius had reached Cyrano and now he worried for all those who would die for him. He knew that that wasn't what Ignatius was suggesting when he was talking about Fleur, but it was what had jumped out at Cyrano.

"Well, just don't think about what's coming, we'll meet it when it comes and there will be no avoiding it," Ignatius said after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, I know."

It was with a heavy heart that Cyrano packed his trunk up in the dormitory on the night before his return to the Blaxtons residence. He was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. He had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since he had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of his fellow students.

When he, Jonathan, and Morgan entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were drapes with each schools emblem on the wall behind the teachers' table.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Cyrano couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff s chair was empty. Cyrano wondered, as he sat down with the other Gryffindors, Fleur was sitting in the same place she had been at the Beginning Term Feast, where Karkaroff was now, he had disappeared during the last task, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Cyrano wondered what Dumbledore had asked of the. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Cyrano for a moment as Cyrano looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Cyrano continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.

What was it that Snape had done on Dumbledores orders, the night that Voldemort had returned? And why. . . why . . . was Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was truly on their side? He had been their spy, Dumbledore had said so in the Pensieve. Snape had turned spy against Voldemort, "at great personal risk." Was that the job he had taken up again? Had he made contact with the Death Eaters, perhaps? Pretended that he had never really gone over to Dumbledore, that he had been, like Voldemort himself, biding his time?

Cyrano's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "Some would not like me telling you this, but I feel you have a right to know. It is with a heavy heart that I say this; Voldemort is back."

There were gasps and whispers. Cyrano could see the horror in many of the students faces. Over at the Slytherin table. Cyrano saw Nicodemus Sandon muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Cyrano felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore. Dumbledore silenced the room with a hand.

"I am sure that many of your parents would be horrified that I have told you this, but I feel that the truth is generally preferable to lies. There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with the return of Voldemort. If I must extend it, then I will also say that two people were involved. I am, of course, talking about Cyrano Odion and Fleur Delacour."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Cyrano's direction and Fleur's before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Cyrano Odion managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore," He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Cyrano and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures, Cyrano saw that Sandon, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.

"Fleur Delacour, who was taken with Cyrano, stayed in an attempt to protect Cyrano against Voldemort. She, as well, has shown bravery few would have in facing Voldemort. For that, I honor her as well."

Again, this time for Fleur, Dumbledore raised his cup and murmured her name and then drank from his goblet. Cyrano joined in on this one, as did many others. When everyone was sitting once more Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Cyrano saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. Remember, no one here stands alone."

Cyrano's trunk was packed; Archimedes was back in his cage on top of it. He, Jonathan, and Morgan were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the fourth years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer's day.

"Cyrano."

It was Fleur; she was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds. Cyrano could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

"Couldn't wait a couple months to see me again could you," Cyrano said jokingly as he hugged her.

"I just wanted to see you before we left," Fleur said, her sapphire eyes meeting Cyrano's grey ones as she pulled away from him, "You know the first time I met you, I saw something in your eyes I could not identify; now I see what it is."

"And what's that," Cyrano asked curious.

"I can tell you, it would be helping you with the thing Dumbledore asked you to do," she said shaking her head. Jonathan had disappeared; no doubt saying good-bye to Christelle, but Morgan was there and looked curiously at them. So Cyrano said good-bye and Fleur went to the carriage. Cyrano's spirits couldn't help but lift slightly as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.

"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," said Morgan, "D' you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer," said a gruff voice, "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."

Krum had come to say good-bye to Morgan, "Could I have a vord?" he asked her.

"Oh . . . yes ... all right," said Morgan, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight. They returned several minutes later.

"I vant you to keep in contact vith me," Krum told Cyrano, "vith vhat has happened, ve vill no doubt be needing support, vhether it be you or me."

"Alright," Cyrano said, shacking Krum's hand. That was when Jonathan returned. He shook Krum's hand briefly before he departed. Then Cedric came to talk with Cyrano. He had seen very little of Cedric sense that night in the maze. He had looked pale the first few days of what Cyrano saw of him, he apparently had been avoiding a lot of the student body as well.

"Hey Cedric," said Cedric as the Hufflepuff student approached him.

"Hello Cyrano. I just wanted to say no hard feelings in the maze," Cedric offered his hand, Cyrano took it.

"It's not needed Ced," Cyrano said as he dropped his hand, "I wouldn't want to think of what happened if you had reached the cup first."

"Yeah. Hey listen," Cedric said, lowering his voice and pulling Cyrano away from his friends, "Keep in touch, with Voldemort back it's going to be rough. If you need any help just send an owl and I'll come as quick as possible."

Cyrano could see a pile of dead piles building up in front of his minds eyes and started to protest.

"No, listen, I know for a fat that you will be the most important person in this war," and with that Cedric walked away.

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan had managed to get a compartment to themselves.

Cyrano, Jonathan, and Morgan talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward. Cyrano felt as though Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked him, somehow.

They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.

When Morgan returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet that she had been carrying in there. Cyrano looked at it, unsure whether he really wanted to know what it might say, but Morgan, seeing him looking at it, said calmly, "There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me, Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."

Cyrano had failed to mention that Dumbledore had asked Fudge to keep quiet for the time being. He felt that if Dumbledore had thought it important that Fudge keep quiet, then he would keep quiet about it as well.

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said Cyrano, still not mentioning the fact about Fudge, "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Morgan in an oddly constrained voice, "As a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about," said Jonathan. He still, obviously was obsessed with getting Rita and thought perhaps he was about to get more information on her.

but that she had restrained herself in light of everything else that had happened.

"How was she doing it," said Cyrano at once.

"How did you find out," asked Jonathan, he looked dumfounded that his sister was the one to find out how Rita was getting stories and not him.

"Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea. Cyrano," she said.

"Did I," said Cyrano, perplexed, "How?"

"Bugging," said Morgan happily.

"But you said they didn't work -"

"Oh not electronic bugs," said Morgan, "No, you see ... Rita Skeeter….is an unregistered Animagus. She

can turn -"

Morgan pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag.

"- into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Jonathan, "You haven't.. . she's not..."

"Oh yes she is," said Morgan happily, brandishing the jar at them. Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.

"That's never - you're kidding -" Jonathan whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"No, I'm not," said Morgan, beaming, "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."

Cyrano looked and saw that she was quite right. He also remembered something.

"There was a beetle fly around the Yule Ball the whole night, that's how she heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!"

"Exactly," said Morgan, " She's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"When we saw Sandonunder that tree ..." said Jonathan slowly.

"He was talking to her, in his hand," said Morgan, "He knew, of course. That's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and Hagrid."

Morgan took the glass jar back from Jonathan and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.

"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," said Morgan, "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."

Jonathan was silent with amazement; he could quite grasp how his sister had been the one to catch Rita and not him. He was also surprised that she had been able to manage a Unbreakable Charm.

Smiling serenely, Morgan placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag.

The door of the compartment slid open.

"Very clever, Blaxton," said Nicodemus Sandon. Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than Cyrano had ever seen them.

"So," said Sandon slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lip, "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Odion's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal."

His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.

"Trying not to think about it, are we," said Sandon softly, looking around at all three of them, "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," said Cyrano.

He had not been this close to Sandon since he had watched him muttering to Crabbe and Goyle during Dumbledores speech. He could feel a kind of ringing in his ears. His hand gripped his wand under his robes.

"You've picked the losing side, Odion! I warned you! I told you, you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this," He jerked his head at Jonathan and Morgan, "Too late now, Odion! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first!"

"I'd be careful with what you say, Sandon," spat Cyrano, his anger was boiling over, "I have the names of the Death Eaters that returned that night, I think the Minister would find it strange that one of his most trusted advisers was with Voldemort."

Sandon's wand was out in a blur, but Cyrano was even faster It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Cyrano blinked and looked down at the floor.

Sandon, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Jonathan, and Morgan were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Blake matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did Jack, who was careful to tread on Sandon as he followed Blake inside.

"Interesting effect," said Jack, looking down at Crabbe, "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Cyrano.

"Odd," said Jack lightly, "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Jonathan, Cyrano, and Jack kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Sandon, Crabbe, and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

"Exploding Snap, anyone," said Blake, pulling out a pack of cards. Blake and Jack told them that they had been trying to blackmail Bagman all year. Bagman had paid the with leprechaun gold after they guessed right on a bet. When they had tried to get the money back he kept making up some excuse to get out of it. At the end of the year, he finally told them that they were too young to be betting.

"'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins," Blake said, " Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"

"How," Cyrano asked.

"He put a bet on you, mate," said Blake, "Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"So that's why he kept trying to help me win," said Cyrano. "Well - I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!"

"Nope," said Jack, shaking his head, "The goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Fleur, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task. Not that it matters much; we recently gained ownership of a small fortune."

Both Jack and Blake winked at Cyrano and he smiled.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; soon the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Jonathan and Morgan struggled out past Sandon, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Cyrano followed more slowly behind them.

They met with Kate and Miles just off the compartment they had been occupying. Kate was instantly suffocating Cyrano as she hugged him. When Cyrano was finally released, he was surprised to find that Alan Delacour was standing off a little ways watching him. Cyrano moved away from the Blaxtons as Jonathan and Morgan greeted their parents. Cyrano stopped as he reached Mr. Delacour.

"What are you doing here," Cyrano asked. He did find it quite strange for the French man to be here.

"You left quite abruptly and I 'ad no time to talk with you," Alan said, "I just wanted to zank you, zat night at ze maze, when I realized ze situation, I knew 'ow lucky it was for Fleur to 'ave returned."

"You always say you need to thank me, but I don't see it that way. I really think that you should be hating me. Nearly every time Fleur was placed in danger was because of me."

"True, but you did right in doing ze right zings in zose situations," Alan said, he always seemed to come back with a valid argument.

"Well, I must thank you for what you've done for me," Cyrano said, "Though, I have to tell you that you don't have to look into Sirius's case anymore."

"Why," Mr. Delacour asked.

"Because I managed to bring back the man who betrayed my parents," Cyrano said.

"Ze squat man, in Ze black robes."

"Yep, the Minister will be formally stating that Sirius is free in the trial of Peter Pettigrew."

"Well, I must say I am happy zat he may roam free once more. Cyrano, zough I may not be helping anymore with your godfather, you will be needing me in the future, I zink I know why you asked for zat document. You will need help when it comes time, all you must do is send for me and I will be there to help."

"Sir, a lot of people have said things similar to me in the last week or so," Cyrano sighed, "and all I ever see is dead corpses piling around me. I don't want any more promises that may lead to people getting hurt."

Alan didn't answer Cyrano right away; he could see that he was trying to work something out to say.

In the end he said, "I know Fleur will be there to protect you, but I would ask something of you?"

"And what is that Alan," Cyrano asked.

"Protect her, she may be protecting you, but that does not mean you cannot do the same for her," he fell silent. Cyrano nodded and turned away to look at the Blaxtons, when he turned back, Alan Delacour had disappeared.

Cyrano made his way back to the Blaxtons. He followed them as they left the platform and back into the muggle world. As Ignatius had said, what would come would come ... and he would have to meet it when it did.

Author's Note: With that done I will be starting the next part. The second part of this story is going to differ greatly from the fifth book of HP. However, before I bring this part to a close there is one last thing that I must add in. The last piece will be, basically, an epilogue, as it will lead into the events of the next story.


	21. Epilogue

A little less than a month after he left school, Cyrano was visited by Merlin. He had just drifted off to sleep when he found he was in familiar surroundings of trees. Cyrano stood up and instead of letting Merlin find him, he went to look for Merlin. He found his sitting on a bench, similar to the one he had made from tree roots during the previse year.

"So, you weren't lying when you told me you had no plans of visiting me until after the Tournament," Cyrano said as he sat down beside his ancestor.

"No, I wasn't. You didn't have any trouble with Morgue's heir I see," Merlin said as he watched some leafs float lazily by.

"I didn't ever learn who they were, I was too busy with the tournament," Cyrano said. He truly had forgotten about Merlin's warning.

"Really, I thought you had. Oh while, it will come to you eventually," Merlin sighed, "Cyrano, there is something we must discuss."

"And what is that," Cyrano asked. He had noticed that Merlin was quite grim, signifying something important was about to come to pass.

"It is time that I am found," Merlin said quietly.

"What do you mean by that?'

"I mean you must look for my tomb. I cannot help you in your search because every memory I had of that moment was wiped away by the Lady of the Lake. All I know of is that my body lies within a tree. You must do this because it is the important in your fight against Voldemort."

Cyrano didn't say anything. What could he say? He was being told that he was to look for Merlin's tomb. He had known it was coming, but he had thought that it wouldn't come for some time.

"How will it help me with Voldemort," Cyrano finally asked.

"I don't know that either, it won't come to me until I am free, _I_ cannot be of any help until I am free."

"When do you want me to leave?"

"Tonight, but it is apparent that you return to Hogwarts this next year. So you will vanish for a month, go to St. Peter's, the old nunnery near Carmarthen, my home, it's in Wales. You'll find old text that may help you, that is all I know, I am sorry."

Cyrano stood up, "That's okay, I'll do it. Should I tell anyone that I am leaving?"

Merlin stood with him, "If you must, send a letter someone you know will not get it until after you are a good distance away. Just don't reveal what you're doing, tell them that it is important."

"Very well," Cyrano stepped away from Merlin, "I don't think I'll find it, though, by the end of one month."

"Oh, I know you won't, I have seen as much, but it will lead to your finding of it," Merlin said. Cyrano's vision went black. His eyes opened, his room was a little lighter than the recess of the mind he had just withdrew from.

Cyrano jumped out of his bed and started preparing to leave he grabbed a paper bag and shoved some clothes into it. He then got dressed and went down stairs grabbed some breed, cheese, an a few other things that he could eat. He knew it wouldn't be enough, but he could always stop somewhere when he needed more. He ran back upstairs.

He sat down at a desk in the corner of his room and pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill, he lit a candle and wrote:.

**_Dear Sirius,_**

_By the time you get you will already have learned that I have disappeared. I want you to know that I have not left as a heroic act to keep you alive, or anyone for that matter. Nor have I left because I am a coward. I cannot tell you what I'm exactly doing, only that it could serve a purpose in the future. I would like you to tell Kate and Miles that I am fine. Also tell Dumbledore what I have told you. I know when you get this letter that you'll send another telling me to come back at that instant, but I assure you that it will be ignored. I will not be away long, just long enough to look into a few things. I will return somewhere near or in August._

_From your Godson,_

**_Cyrano_**

He woke Archimedes up as quietly as possible and tied the letter to his leg. He crossed the room and the owl took flight. Cyrano went to his bedside stand and grabbed his wand. He gathered up the things he had bagged up and slipped out his bedroom door.

He moved slowly down the hallway, listening for movements. He felt guilty about leaving Morgan and Jonathan in the dark, but his honor to his ancestor was too much that it was best that he did keep them in the dark. And after all, no one knew that Merlin was still alive, he wasn't about to tell them. He made it to the kitchen door without incident. He opened it and left the house.

He walked down the country road that the Blaxtons house was on. They lived quite far from the nearest town, which was a muggle one. He turned once more to look at the house before he left. Them without so much as the idea of going back, Cyrano turned around and walked off into the night. It would be an entire month before anyone would see him again.


End file.
